Dragonslayers
by BananaJoe64
Summary: In the heat of the Vietnam War, a squad of American troops are ambushed by mysterious men with medieval armor and weaponry. The men, seeming to have come from a mysterious structure which leads to another world, leads to U.S. troops being ordered to investigate this other world. Follow through the eyes of an infantryman as he recounts his experiences in that strange, new world.
1. Nothing but the Truth

**Author's Note** : First of all, I'd like to thank you if you're here reading this right now, I realize that there are many other stories out there that you could be reading right now as well as a lot of other things you could also be doing right now. But the fact that you chose to take a look at my story really makes me happy. Anyways, this is my first story on this website, so any criticism is helpful. Hope you enjoy! (I'll also be posting at least two chapters of the by the end of each month, starting with these two)

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Nothing But the Truth

All of this is true.

At the time of writing this, only a decade has passed since the conflict in Vietnam came to an end. And yet, it seems like an eternity ago. An eternity where I myself served as an infantryman for the Army, an eternity where I lost friends, an eternity where I killed. Do I have regrets when it comes to the things I did back there? No, I did what I had to, and so did many of my other brothers in arms. But this story isn't focused on my experiences in Vietnam, no, this story is about another world. One which was far away from Vietnam yet ended up being just as bad.

This other world was similar to ours in many ways: they walked like us, talked like us, _loved_ like us, and fought like us.

But this story isn't going to be centered around that, it won't be, because we weren't always fighting in that world. Sometimes, we all just took a moment to appreciate the sun setting over there; creating a beautiful haze of orange and purple in the sky. Sometimes we just sat down with those strange people and just had a couple of drinks, talking and laughing.

This is a war story, this is a _love_ story. One filled with craziness that is the truth, one that is so unbelievable that you may call me insane after reading it. But it happened. All of it.

I have no way of verifying this, of course, all traces of that place are gone now, along with it the lives of American soldiers - which is why I tell this story. I tell it because my friends can't. I am telling it so that they're not forgotten.

I can't make any promises to you, the reader, on how this story will play out. But I will make one promise when telling it: I will tell nothing but the truth.


	2. The Rainy Village

**Author's Note** : First of all, I'd like to thank you if you're here reading this right now, I realize that there are many other stories out there that you could be reading right now as well as a lot of other things you could also be doing right now. But the fact that you chose to take a look at my story really makes me happy. Anyways, this is my first story on this website, so any criticism is helpful. Hope you enjoy! (I'll also be posting at least two chapters of the by the end of each month, starting with these two)

* * *

The Rainy Village

Back in October of 1968, my squad and I were en route to some random village in the jungles of Cambodia because it was suspected that the North Vietnamese and Viet Cong were using that place as a front to run weapons, supplies, and troops. I was a corporal at the time, my friend, Rick, was a private first class. I had met him in basic training, he was an African American who'd been drafted into the war. He was a pretty down to earth guy, only 18 at the time; as for me, I was 21 since I had enlisted back in '65 when I was 18. Anyways, so we're going to this village, nothing special. Missions like these weren't uncommon to us, my squad and I had been doing these sorts of missions for years at this point. However, once we get there, it starts raining, and when I say it started raining I mean it really came down on us. Like a hurricane or a typhoon.

Second Lieutenant Bob Richards, the guy leading our squad, gave us orders to set up a perimeter around the village for the night in order to catch any VC or NVA troops in the jungle. As well as any communist sympathizers that may already be inside of the village.

Richards was straight out of college, only 22, this being his first time actually leading a group of men. Initially, most of us picked on him. Not because we hated him, but because he was new; the logic being that we shouldn't grow too sentimental over an officer as the VC and NVA snipers preferred to target them, leading them to be some of the most targeted people in Vietnam. This earned him the nickname of "Dick," partially because of his name, but mostly because of his somewhat stiff mannerisms towards us. However, as time moved on, he eased up around us, and we eased up around him, in fact, "Dick," became his name in our squad now. And he didn't mind, not one bit.

So there we are, all watching the wilderness around this village, we had all dug foxholes at this point. Rick and I shared the one we made. As we were sitting there, we joked a little about the rain, claiming how Ho Chi Minh was behind it and some other bullshit that we found hilarious at the time until Randall came up to our foxhole behind us. Randall was the machine gunner, meaning he carried the M60 every day - that gave me respect for the guy- when it wasn't raining, it was hot, the sun threatening to melt you if you stood under it for too long. And given the fact that the M60 weighed a ton, and we had to wear our uniform on patrol which usually lasted hours, I was rather impressed by Randall's resolve to carry the thing. The guy himself was rather trippy, pretty sure he did pot, you could just smell it on him. Perhaps that's what gave him the strength to carry that thing.

Anyway, so he comes up behind us, seeming to be in a bit of a hurry.

"What do you need Randy?" I asked, only turning my head so that I could keep my M16 aimed towards the jungle. Almost immediately, close to interrupting me, Randall whispered this urgently:

"Yo man, Bob and Mitch' think they got some gooks south side of the perimeter, stay alert man. And stay frosty." He then ran off in a direction away from Rick and me, probably to go warn the others. Rick and I were on the west side of the perimeter, an area which faced a dense jungle.

"You hear that shit man? Fuckin' gooks man, I ain't woke enough for this shit." Muttered Rick as he looked down his sights.

"Yeah, well, just keep an eye out, we'll be fine," I responded, trying to get him to relax a little.

Minutes passed like hours as we just sat there in silence. The only noise being the rain beating down on the earth below it. Until we heard a footstep.

It was faint, only because of the fact that I was alert was I able to hear the leaves crunching. I looked over to Rick, it was clear he noticed it as his face was pale.

"Yo man, you fuckin' heard that shit?" He whispered anxiously as he pointed his weapon in the direction of the sound. I aimed my weapon over there as well. In my head, there was no reason for any villagers to be out in the middle of the jungle unless they were with the VC or NVA. I looked over to my left and right, nobody. Rick and I were the only people posted at that part of the perimeter, we were only 12 men strong, so Richards - or as most of the guys called him "Tricky Dick" - had to make do with what he had. Then we heard another footstep, but we noticed something.

With every step, a small metal clank accompanied it. By now, I had told Rick to go tell the others that we were hearing footsteps, meaning I was alone. Alone with nothing but the mysterious darkness of the jungle around me. I heard another footstep, this time in front of me, so I aim my M16 in front of me. Then another, but this time to the left of me, then to the right, it was all over me. Just as the footsteps were getting more frequent, and more intense, Rick jumped back into the foxhole with me.

"Dick's gon' light this place with some flares man." He exclaimed as he wildly swung his weapons from left to right. The rain was coming down even harder now as we both stood there, weapons drawn. The footsteps were now getting drowned out by the pitter patter of rain, time seemed to be in a standstill as Rick and I stood there, pointing our weapons out into the jungle in front of us. Into the darkness that seemed to envelop the village, we were in.

At this point, neither of us were cracking jokes. Hell, neither of us either dared a cough. Instead, we both stood there in silence, waving our M16s left to right, desperately trying to pin down the sources of the footsteps. For all we knew, an entire NVA or Viet Cong regiment could've been mobilizing right in front of us, and neither of us wouldn't have known until it was too late. That was the worst part of that night, the fear.

After about half an hour passed, our radios crackled to life, scaring the shit out of us initially, but what Richards said on the other end of the radio was probably gave us the biggest sense of relief either of us felt that entire night.

"Prepare for illumination in ETA 5 seconds, over."

"Roger that, we're in position, out," I responded before quickly whipping out my M16 again. Now, it seemed as if even the rain stopped as there was just silence. Could they be waiting for us? Waiting for the light of the flare to shoot us? I wondered as I stared out into the darkness. Rick was dead silent also, but I could see he was shaking. This was probably the first time he saw real combat, not training, but the real thing.

A couple moments later, both Rick and I hear a loud POP, followed by the sizzling of the flare in the sky. Out of instinct, both Rick and I gazed upon it, it was like a second sun - it was red and illuminated the treelines as it gently fell into the jungle in front of us. Rick and I followed the flare as it floated down behind the treeline, exposing several other figures in the jungle staring at it in awe. When we noticed them, Rick and I almost jumped.

Just beyond us, I'd say no more than a few meters ahead of us in the treeline was a bunch of men. But these weren't VC or NVA, hell, not even Americans or South Vietnamese; these guys were people we had never seen before. They wore full metal armor, like soldiers from the ancient Roman empire wore; they were all either carrying spears, swords, crossbows, or bows and arrows; they were all Caucasian males too, or from what we could see; and one of them seemed to be the flag bearer, except neither myself nor Rick could recognize the flag being flown. There were easily about 20-30 of them there, all of them just staring at the flare that had just landed, it was as if they were in awe of it.

"What the fuck is this shit?" I whispered to Rick, "Fucking Shakespeare in 'Nam?"

Rick almost snickered, which caught the attention of one of the guys closest to us. He turned around, the guy was clearly no older than 20, he wore a shocked expression on his face, almost as if he was amazed by us or something. For a moment, all three of us just stood at each other - Rick and I didn't know whether or not we were supposed to engage him, and I believe that the kid didn't know whether he was supposed to engage us either. We all just eyeballed each other, watching for who moved first, sort of like a standoff. The rain seemed to intensify, the mud beneath the kid threatening to envelop him as he just stood there.

"Fuck this bullshit man, I say we fuckin' light him, man. What do you say?" Rick finally whispered after a few moments, breaking the silence that seemed to loom over the three of us. I said nothing, however, as I genuinely didn't know what to do. Then slowly, one by one, the rest of the armored men turned their heads to stare at us. If the situation beforehand wasn't tense enough, this was. The paleness of their skin was in stark contrast with the darkness of the jungle behind them, almost making them look like ghosts.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, was sounded like some kind of bullhorn played some short tune, this seemed to rile the guys up, making myself and Rick shrink in the foxhole.

"Stay back! I'm warning you fuckers!" Rick yelled as he stood up, pointing the M16 at the kid closest to us, the one we had been staring at. Then, the unthinkable happened. I'll never forget the shakiness in Rick's voice when he said that as he switched the safety off on his M16; how he was trying to intimidate them, but they wouldn't budge; how he had put right pointer finger right on the trigger of the gun, and how I looked back at the 20-year-old soldier in front of us, the silence suddenly being broken by the crack of a bullet firing from Rick's M16. The way the tracer round traveled in the night, a small red beam of death flying against the backdrop of the pitch blackness around it, the crowd in front of us just staring at the tracer round as it sped towards them. Then that kid that was eyeballing us earlier, looking so curious and confused, falling to the ground suddenly as the bullet penetrated his body, shooting right through his helmet, killing him instantly.

Rick just stood there afterward, out of shock, dropping his M16 to the ground with the most shocked expression on his face. The crowd in front of us also just stood there, some inspecting the body, others talking amongst themselves. A lot of them looking confused and surprised, but mostly scared as they all looked back up at us. Some of them shifting uncomfortably as they stood in a now offensive stance staring at us, the rain continued to relentlessly pour on us, and the mud was almost at the crowd's ankles at this point, but they didn't seem to care. They stood there like statues, not moving, not blinking. Some of the other guys in our squad broke away from their positions to come check out the source of the gunshot - first it was Randall, lugging his M60 with him as he curiously walked over to us, only to start staring at the crowd of armoured soldiers; then Bob and Mitch, the guys that thought they heard noises down at their sector, came over, only to freeze as soon as they saw them - the soldiers ahead of us started to shuffle around and change position as they saw more of our squad coming in to reinforce us. Just then, two deep and ominous notes from what seemed to be the same horn from earlier sounded. And the crowd charged at us, yelling like a bunch of psychopaths while drawing out their swords and other weapons.

Rick immediately dived to the floor, cradling his M16 - the kid had never seen combat like this before, he was scared - as for myself, I was picking off targets to my front, left, and right with my M16. This was about survival now. Randall was standing behind me, firing off his M60 in one hand, and holding the belt of bullets in the other hand, doing all this while yelling "Come at me motherfuckers!" Bob was helping me take out targets with his M16 but had also started tossing grenades. The crowd had originally charged at us in one huge formation, all bunched up together, this meant that explosives, such as grenades, took out many of them - leaving gaps in their formation which could be and were exploited by us. Randall's M60 was like a chainsaw on paper, it just devastated that formation, cutting holes in the armored bodies of the attackers like swiss cheese. Mitch was the marksman, so he was towards our rear, desperately picking out targets to shoot as the flurry of people tried to bombard us. It was also clear that these guys hadn't spent any time in the jungle whatsoever, as if not made apparent by what they wore, many of them tripped over themselves because of the mud which made the ground slippery and wet, over the limbs of trees, and other things that were laid across the jungle - including barbed wire, sandbags, and other fortifications we had set up for the night while camping out in the village.

Within only a few seconds, the five of us had managed to wipe out around a quarter of the attacking force, leaving a lot of others seriously wounded. This was a slaughter for them. As the slaughter continued, more men from our squad had abandoned their post to come give us assistance, not realizing that we weren't in need of any. All I could hear at this point was the roar of the M60 machine gun Randall was operating, combined with the staccato bursts of the M16s myself and most of the others in our squad were using; the endless pitter-patter of rain, the sound of bodies falling in the mud, and on other bodies; with the occasional, unintelligible, scream of some poor soul that had been injured and left in the mud to rot. I was somewhat engrossed by all the tracers being fired around me towards them, red, green, and yellow lights all just flying forward into the distance, disappearing once they hit a body. It was terrible yet beautiful at the same time.

By the ten minute mark, our entire squad was lighting up the advancing army, which at this point, had gone from about 30 plus men to no more than 10 left standing. By the fifteen minute mark, nobody was left standing on their side. We had won this battle, we were victorious.


	3. Daybreak

Daybreak

 _Last night I went to sleep in Detroit City_

 _I dreamed about them cotton fields of home_

 _I dreamed about my mother, dear old pappy, sister and brother_

 _And I dreamed about the girl who's been waitin' for so long_

 _I want to go home_

 _I want to go home_

 _Oh, how I want to go home..._

"Hey, shut that shit off and help us with the body count!" Dick barked at Bob as he was jamming out to the radio, he quickly jumped off the porch of the hut he was on hurried over to us. The sun had dawned a new day and the rain had stopped, but the smell of gunpowder, mud, and blood continued to permeate throughout the air around the village. The battle, no, slaughter, was short yet intense at the same time. If I had to compare the scene to something, I would compare it to how the militaries of Europe would charge at machine guns in the early stages of World War 1 because of how new the technology was. But this technology wasn't new by any means; guns have been around for centuries, machine guns for decades, and helicopters ever since 50s.

We were all in the battlefield, with exception to four of the guys in our squad who had been ordered by Dick to keep an eye on the villagers. The rest of our platoon, who had been ordered to investigate another village nearby, wouldn't arrive for at least another half hour due to the fact that a tree had fallen down on the path to the village, preventing ground vehicles from being able to reach them. This meant that the rest of our platoon, under the command of Staff Sergeant Jessie Buckam - some redneck from the backwoods of Tennessee who'd spent about as much time in Vietnam I had - was stuck working on moving the tree in order to reopen the path.

"Hey Marlowe, mind giving me a hand over here?" Rick called out to me, out in the distance. I rushed over to Rick, who was standing over the bodies of one of the armored men, asking what he needed. The guy was covered in mud and blood, and his right ankle was bent funny, _perhaps he twisted his ankle or something_ I thought to myself as I bent down next to the guy while Rick got on his other side. Rick had called me over as apparently the guy was too heavy for him, and seeing as how I was the closest guy he knew well, he figured he'd ask me for help.

"Alright Rick, on the count of three, got it?" I ordered as I grabbed the man's right arm. Rick nodded, and grabbed the man's left arm. The man was barely alive, Rick and I could both hear the man's raspy breathing as he desperately clung onto his life.

"OK Rick, on the count of three: One, two, three." As I finished, both Rick and I heaved the man back, dragging him towards the line of bodies our squad had made. There were twenty dead, all of them riddled with bullets, some of them missing limbs due to being blown up by our hand grenades. Some of the bodies didn't even look human, one had the body of a person, but the head of a pig, whereas another had some of the pointiest teeth I've ever seen.

"This shit's fucked man, shit's fucked…" Rick muttered as we laid the body next to the others, Rick shaking his head in utter disbelief the entire time. I have to same that I felt the same, this stuff felt like something you'd find in a fantasy movie or novel. But not Vietnam. No, out here we expected to find the Viet Cong or North Vietnamese, not warriors from ancient Rome. The other bodies had distracted Rick and I from the guy we had just pulled in that we didn't even notice that where the guy's right ankle should've been, the one that was bent funny, was now just a stub of bone, blood, flesh, tissue and mud. I don't know what it was about the sight, maybe he had come to realize what he had done or something, but it just broke him. He excused himself as he stumbled away from the line of bodies, looking pale as he had been the night prior. I could hear him puking from where I stood. Randall was nearby as he stood watch with his M60, smoking some pot. I walked up to him.

"What do you think of this man?" I asked him. I asked, somewhat intrigued by his tamed reaction. Everyone else in the squad was shocked, to say the very least, at what we were seeing. But Randall just stood there, looking over the bodies and destruction in front of us, staring out into the jungle. He didn't reply to my question at first, so I repeated it to him a little louder.

"Calm down, I heard you the first time." He muttered as he puffed the joint he was smoking. He then stood there for a bit, not at all paying me any mind, before speaking up again.

"What can I say, I'd say that the gooks did this, but last time I checked, they weren't running around wearing the heads of pigs or dressing up as wolves. Not to mention the only fuckers we're findin' out in that shit don't look like 'em neither. Y'know? Situations gettin' fuckin' weirder by the minute - and we're the unlucky bastards to be caught in the center of it all. All I know is somethin' big's bound to come from this. All I know." He finished saying as he continued to smoke his pot.

"That must be the smartest thing I think I've heard you say Randy, must be the pot speaking." I remarked snarkily as he continued to look out into the jungle.

"Go eat a dick." He responded with before I backed off to go check on Rick, who had made his way back to the line of corpses. Dick was with Bob and Mitch, along with some city kid who we all called "Mack," touring the scene of the massacre. I watched them for a bit as the three stepped over pieces of barbed wire, sandbags, mudpiles, and body parts. My attention then fell back onto Rick.

"How you holdin' up man?" I asked him as he still seemed pale. He stood there a bit before responding.

"Y-You think if I hadn't lost my cool, that this maybe would've ended differently?" He sheepishly asked. I looked at him, _that has got to be the stupidest thing I've heard_ is what I thought initially. I wanted to slap him across the face and tell him to 'Knock it off,' or something like that - this was war, if you didn't fire first, then Charlie would - but then I remembered how new all this was to him. So I put my hand on his shoulder in a comforting manner and stood next to him.

"You see what happened here? Whether or not you fired wouldn't have changed it at all. You saw these guys, they were _mad_ , they charged right at us, seeing full well that we were armed. So don't beat yourself up too much man, hell, I think you might've even saved us by firing your rifle." I explained to him in the sort of manner a father has when he needs to explain to his son that something that happened isn't their fault. I patted his back as he then went off to go see if Dick and the others needed a hand with anything.

Rick came running back to me after a few minutes.

"Any updates?" I asked inquisitively. Rick nodded his head.

"Apparently the body count for _them_ is upwards of 25-30, with only a couple of them being alive. Barely." Rick answered as he watched the other guys in our squad work.

"Fuckin' slaughter…" I muttered to myself as I looked at the what he engagement of last night had left behind. The line of bodies, where Rick and I stood, had been set up by one of the village's huts; a few feet in front was the foxhole that Rick and I dug, and where Randall now stood, poised with his machine gun and smoking a joint. Beyond the foxhole was a mess of craters, from our grenades, which had displaced mud all over the place, creating a field mixed with pieces of barbed wire; pieces of wood from branches, trees, and the stands used to hold the barbed wire in place; sandbags; and mud mixed with dirt. "Jungle Stew" as Staff Sergeant Buckam would say. Littering the ground were the corpses of those strange, armored beings - their faces twisted as they had gone out in pain while some died with their arms outstretched in front of them as they were probably trying to crawl away from us, dying in the mud instead. Some of them were face down in the mud, those warriors, as it would later be revealed, had suffocated to death.

Body parts also littered the field. Hands, legs, fingers, feet, heads, pieces of flesh and bone on the ground like a seasoning on a steak. With the sauce of this steak being blood. Blood and water had mixed with the dirt, making the ground darker, muddier, and filthier.

It was around two in the afternoon when we finished collecting up all the bodies, and moving the injured into makeshift medical bases - these bases being some random villager's hut with a couple tables in the center. Rick and I, along with a private named Chris Evers - some kid from New York who'd gone to college but then enlisted; and another private who we just called Larry.

Not much was known about Larry, there were rumors that he had a criminal record. But these were just rumors.

We all had moved into our FOB, which was in what seemed to be the village's town center or something like that, the hut was a rather large building which was surrounded by a bamboo fence, directly across the village's church. It had all sorts of decorative plants growing around it, and had some text in Vietnamese above the main entrance. So the four of us are just sitting there, in silence, not really knowing _what_ to think about the night prior - Rick and I especially. That's when we heard the sound of helicopters passing overhead and then landing nearby us. All four of us instantly got up and headed back to the field where we had makeshift landing zones, and there we found the rest of our platoon.

Staff Sergeant Jessie Buckam, the guy had seen some shit, he was here ever since the Battle of Ia Drang, which made him somewhat of a hardass. He was very authoritative, but knew his shit and respected the LT whenever we needed to. Hell, if you gave the guy a blank check, and a bunch of ammo, I bet you he could win the war all by himself.

"Thought y'all were arriving by ground." Dick said out of confusion. "What changed?"

Buckam scoffed a bit. "HQ realized how stupid that was and finally decided to send out choppers for us. Spent about 10-20 minutes clearing up an LZ for the birds." He replied in a somewhat smart-ass manner, then walking over to the bodies.

"What the hell is this shit?" Asked Buckam, examining the bodies, particularly those that didn't seem human. A couple other guys followed him.

"Seems like the _dinks_ finally got tired of us kicking their asses, and got someone else to do the job for 'em." Replied one of the guys that followed Buckam. Everyone in the platoon called him 'Bootleg Jerry,' due to the fact that whether it was alcohol, movies, porn, or what have you...he would be able to find it and bring it to you. For a price, of course. From what I had heard, he was some gambler who lost it all back in the 50's down in Vegas - he then joined the military just to earn a living. He was a sly, maneuvering type of guy who often locked horns with Randall even though Randall usually got his pot from him.

Nobody laughed at Jerry's comment. Instead, we were all just silent, just watching Buckam go by as he investigated the bodies. The second guy with them didn't say much, only nodding a couple times whenever Buckam or Jerry would make a comment. I didn't know much about the quiet one, only that he was a newbie. Of course there were rumors about why he was so silent: _perhaps he was retarded_ , _maybe he had a hard on for one of the other guys in the platoon but didn't want to say anything_ , and the all classic _maybe he killed somebody_ rumor. I have to say, as much as I took all of them with a grain of salt, I didn't find some of them hard to believe. 'Zipmouth' was what we all referred to him as.

Buckam finally finished looking over all the bodies.

"Ain't gooks, that's for sure." He finally remarked, wiping a bit of sweat off his forehead. "What's the plan now boss?"

"HQ's ordering us to stay put, and stay on alert. But try to stay under the shade, with it having just rained, humidity will be high, and it's expected to be hot as hell out here." Dick answered before dismissing everyone.

"And if we see more of those guys?" Mack asked sheepishly. Everyone kind of just glanced at him, before Dick looked at him dead in the eyes and laughed a bit.

"If you see more of 'em, consider them hostile. Like the gooks. And light 'em up. Anymore questions?" He said a bit jokingly. The platoon let out a giggle before all going their separate ways. Bob, this time joined by Mack, Jerry, and Mitch, went back to the radio, this time playing some sports broadcast.

Buckam and Dick went back into our makeshift FOB as Randall, myself, Rick, and a few other guys were ordered to keep an eye on the perimeter. We were to be relieved in two hours. The others who were not with us were either ordered to provide additional support to the perimeter defenses, help with rounding up the villagers who remained in this city and evacuating them while also finding out which of them were communist sympathizers, and or turning this village into an outpost.

Daybreak had dawned, and it created a new day. And I could tell this was going to be a long one as I lit up a cigarette.


	4. Party for Charlie

Party for Charlie

"Christ man, we been out here for ages, what time is it?" Rick asked as he downed his canteen of water. I checked my watch, it was half past six. Whoever was supposed to relieve us must've forgotten about us, speaking of which, we had barely seen anybody for the time we were there. Well, except for the guys that were guarding the perimeter with us.

"Half past six man." I muttered as I sat there, pointing my M16 out at the jungle, where those warriors had come from the night prior.

"Shit." Rick exclaimed. "Y'know what? Fuck this man!" He exclaimed as he started to get up.

"Hey man, don't!" I exclaimed as I practically pulled him back down into the foxhole we were in. "Orders are orders man, even if we don't like them, we' have to follow them." I explained to him as he grudgingly pulled his M16 back out and aimed it out at the jungle. As much as I also hated the fact that we were still sitting there, even though we were supposed to be relieved of duty an hour or so ago, I would rather sit in some foxhole than risk getting chewed out for disobeying orders. We sat there for a few more moments until a drunk Mitch and Mack came stumbling towards us, the smell of cheap beer and pot emanating from them like smoke from a fire. I aggressively got up and pinned Mitch to the wall.

"Where the hell were you asshole? You were supposed to relieve us almost two hours ago!" I aggressively shouted. He pushed me back off of him and stepped away from the wall.

"Chill the fuck out man! Look, we got beers, steaks, and pot back over by the town center. Just head over there, Dick told me to tell y'all that you're off for the rest of the night." He explained with a hint of anger and annoyance in his voice.

"Let's get outta here man, I tryna get somethin' to eat tonight 'fore everyone else takes it." Rick exclaimed, practically jumping out of the foxhole and slinging the M16 back over his shoulder. I did the same as we bid Mitch and Mack a goodnight, and headed off towards the town center with Rick.

The village had a complete makeover, there were sandbag walls scattered all over the place, but the roads were left clear. What seemed to be christmas lights were strewn about the village, lighting the place up like a christmas tree, with manned sniper towers having been constructed in the short time we were there. A couple of the huts had been torn down, to make room for our barracks, which were a series of sandbag bunkers which had been dug into the ground. All around the village's perimeter was barbed wire and spotlights with guard towers, and machine gun nests and additional bunkers. In the few hours we had been in that village, it had been transformed from the vietnamese villagers' village to our village.

Guess this was what everyone was doing I reasoned to myself as I looked around. The smell of pot and cheap barbeque, and cheap alcohol seemed to emanate from a hut next to the barracks.

"Guess this is where the celebration's at…" I muttered to myself as I slowly started to head over to the building. Rick followed. The building was some traditional village hut, nothing special, it had a running generator on its side which I presumed gave power to the building. In front of it were a series of signs, the one with an arrow pointing to the northeast saying 'Hanoi - 860 miles'; another one pointing fully east reading 'San Francisco - 7794 miles'; another sign with an arrow pointing to the northwest, reading 'New York - 8750 miles'; and the last sign point south, reading 'Tokyo - 2736 miles'. I don't know why, but at the time, the signs really intrigued me.  
Rick and I walked into the hut, which was filled with guys from our platoon, all of them smoking shit, drinking beers, or both. There were a bunch of battery operated fans in the hut, swirling the combination of the smells around and then blowing it out in all directions.

"Smells like shit in here!" I exclaimed as Rick and I walked in, grabbing beers. Dick, who was in the farthest corner smiled at us a bit before Bob came over to us, also smiling.

"Haven't you heard man? HQ updated our orders." Bob drunkenly explained, as Dick got up and threw his can of beer out. I took a sip out of my beer as Bob explained this, Dick then interjected.  
"We've been ordered to locate where those guys came from. We leave tomorrow at zero five hundred hours. Handing this place over to some medical detachment, heard they're going to be turning this into some sort of medical outpost. It'll still be ours, but the medical guys'll be holding down fort while we're out there. Anyways, that's all." Dick explained to us as he went to go grab another beer, leaving myself, Rick, and Bob just standing there.

"We're goin' to go hunt down those fuckers!" Bob exclaimed as he followed Dick to the cooler which had turned into a tub of water filled with floating beer cans at this point.

I just stood there, not even flinching, not even drinking the beer. I was in utter disbelief, we didn't even know what these guys were capable of, and yet, we were now being ordered to go hunt them down. Even with the threat of the Viet Cong and the North Vietnamese being very much real. But that wasn't the only thing that worried me, no, it was what was going on around me: people were celebrating, we were celebrating. People were chugging beers, smoking pot, dancing to the blaring rock music, and laughing - all the meanwhile knowing that we could very well perish in the jungle that lays ahead of us. I wanted to speak up, to tell everyone how stupid this was. Rick had already joined Bob, Jerry, and some other privates in our platoon down at the center of the hut, leaving me to figure out what I was going to do alone.

"You gon' join us Marlowe?" Rick asked from the distance. I stood in silence for a bit, not saying anything before I chugged the can of beer I had, running over to Rick and the others. It was time to celebrate. I danced… I drank beers... it was all a blur… the last thing I remember before passing out was walking down the steps of the hut, feeling like shit, looking up at the night sky. Seeing all the stars, wanting to count them, before falling down, and passing out.


	5. Towards the Unknown

Towards the Unknown

I can't remember exactly if it was the whirring of several HU-1 Huey helicopters that woke me up, or the speakers of our newfound base that were blaring some song from The Animals that did the trick. Whatever the cause was, what I woke to was definitely not a question: I had woken to about helicopters, two of them having already landed in our makeshift landing zone while one of them was searching for a spot to land in.  
"Hey stupid, you gon' get up?" A deep, sharp voice called out to me. It was Mack, that inner-city kid who had called that. Mack, as I would come to know later on, had come from some poor inner-city family. He barely passed high school and was involved with a local gang in the area he grew up in by the time the Army had gotten to him.  
"Can't you see? The dude's out of it man, just give him a second." A calmer, less intrusive, and softer voice ordered. Except it wasn't an order, no, the way it was delivered was more of a suggestion if anything. Mack shut up after whoever it was said that. By the time I sat up and looked around, my savior had gone off. Leaving just Mack looking over at him, he held his M16 like a true gangster, slinging it over his shoulder like it was a baseball bat. One look at him, and you almost wouldn't believe he was a soldier.  
"Where are the rest of the guys?" Was the first thing I asked him. He shrugged and even scoffed a little as he pointed over to the town hall, which had become our coordination center at this point. I almost wanted to go ask him what he was doing out here, away from the rest of the platoon, but decided not to. What can I say? It was either the alcohol or The Animals that made me more worried about getting chewed out by my platoon sergeants. After making sure all my gear as well as my wallet was on me, I hurried over to the town hall.

The town hall was formerly a French church back when all of Indochina was under France's rule. At least that's what I gathered as I gazed upon the building, a goliath of a church made out of brick and mortar. American flags and Christmas lights were strewn from it, making it almost seem like a Christmas tree. A Christmas tree of stones and colored glass. Hastily, I entered the building.  
The inside of the town hall was by no means less impressive than it's outside. The ceilings were high and arched, the main room had been converted into what seemed to be a presentation area of sorts. There were fifty seats, twenty five on the left, twenty five on the right, and a gap in the center so that people could walk up to the podium in front of the seats. The podium itself was just an a stand that was elevated no more than a foot off the ground, towards the back of it was a board on wheels that held a couple maps on it. There were several doorways on either side of the main room, all of which led to rooms that, to this day, I still have no idea of what was in them. My platoon were seated in the seats, crowding the front meaning I was left with a seat in the back.  
As I sat down, I breathed a sigh of relief as it seemed that nobody had noticed that I was gone or that I had just entered. It seemed that a few others, including Rick, Randall, Bob and Mitch were just as amazed by this building as I was as they looked around the interior of it as well. Dick and Buckam, the two leaders of the platoon were sitting next to each other in the front row. It was loud as everyone was either making snarky remarks about others in the platoon, comments about the building, or talking about their homes. This chatter continued after a man wearing his Army Combat Uniform walked in the center, up to the podium.

Swanson was the name on his nameplate, and his uniform bore the rank of an Army Colonel. Whatever was about to be said must've been some serious shit.

"How are we all doing today?" Swanson asked in the way a high school principal asks to rally up his school to make them excited. But it didn't work. The response from his crowd was a mumbled mess, in typical Army fashion, he asked again in a louder and more assertive tone. This gained a massive response, causing Swanson to grin that officer grin. The one that lets an enlisted grunt like myself know that we were either wrong, or were about to be. He then began:  
"I'm sure all of you still have questions about your previous firefight, but trust me, I do not have any answers to that effect. But what I do know is this, if you would please." Swanson asked one of the Military Policemen that had been standing guard by him, they of course obliged. Flipping the white tarp off of what I had thought to be a whiteboard to reveal a large map with several markings on it. He then grabbed a pointer, using exaggerated movements as he started to talk again.  
"You men are stationed here." He almost whipped the poster with the pointer, but somehow slowing down his movements so that the pointer only lightly tapped the markings that represented the village we were holed up in. Hell, I almost thought he was going to break that pointer as soon as it touched the map. He then continued.  
"Now on the night of the attack, half of you were stationed here, while the other half was stationed on the other side of the incline. Now then, the most likely path your attackers used was this." Swanson then proceeded to trace out a path, from the highest point of the incline, and then going straight down it before taking a sharp turn to the east, into the jungle that was in front of the village we were in. He then put the pointer back down to his side.  
"I think you men can piece together the rest." He said jarringly as the crowd nodded their heads in confirmation and agreeance. That smile then came back.  
"You men, seeing as you were the first to have contact with them, are going to go and...what's the word? Ah, kick their asses!" He exclaimed, the crowd then erupted into a cheering mess. Hell, I couldn't blame most of the younger ones, this was probably going to be the first time they were going to see real action, not just walking through some unnamed village or jungle for ten to twelve hours with little to no action. Charlie wasn't in control of the battlefield, we were this time. However, as I looked around, the more experienced fighters-ones who had been in Vietnam for as long as I had-weren't cheering. They simply sat there, taking it all in. Rick hadn't gotten up to cheer, perhaps it was because he still blamed himself for this mess; had he not been so careless as to fire that one bullet, perhaps we would all be sitting here, not preparing to go to war but instead reading letters from home. Writing letters to home, and then desperately waiting for a letter back...they never came of course.  
Once the crowd simmered down, Swanson started moving his lips and talking again.  
"Now then, we're not going to make you walk all the way to the top of that incline! It is well above sea level and half of you would probably be too tired to shoot the fuckers once you get up there!" He joked, which garnered some booing and laughs from the crowd, he laughed along with the crowd and put his hands up jokingly.

"Let me finish here before you all kill me!" He joked again with that sly grin plastered on his face. The crowd simmered down and went back to being silent, allowing the colonel to speak again.

"That's why we got up those three Hueys for you boys, we're lending them from the Air Cav, so please do take care of them. Anyways, as soon as I leave the room, we're going to shell the hell out of that hill. Certainly going to blast any gook halfway to hell, along with anybody else that may pose a threat to you boys. We'll stop by the time you all reach the destination. This should clear an LZ for you all, and from thereon, you go find these motherfuckers! Hooah?!" Swanson closed off with, the crowd returned it by chanting a 'hooah' in return. "I'll hand over command to your platoon officer here." Swanson said as he walked off the stage and out of the building, we then all turned our heads to Lieutenant Dick.  
"You heard the man, check all your gear, make sure it's all in place, and let's get on those choppers!" He barked out, being sure to look around the crowd so that everybody got the message. He then left afterwards with Buckam, the platoon sergeant. Everybody in the room then checked all their gear before filing out of the room, I purposefully waited till I was near Rick so that we could talk as I was curious to hear his say in all this.

"What do you think about this?" I asked him with curiosity, he then looked around, probably making sure no NCOs or COs were nearby before he spoke up.  
"This shit keeps on gettin' all the more stranger man!" He exclaimed in a whisper shout, he then continued on:  
"That Swanson man too, he may look like an officer, but I tellin' you! He ain't actin' like no officer I've ever seen! Man that man was a damn cartoon character!"

I nodded in agreement. I had to agree with Rick on this one, this officer was just too...loose. Looser than Lieutenant Dick, looser than General Westmoreland, looser than any other officer I could think of. Hell, even in the way he walked I could tell that he was no officer, he had this swagger that most people lost when they stepped foot in Vietnam. He was like if Elvis Presley became an officer, he was just so strange, so out of place. These thoughts lingered within me as Rick and I boarded the last Huey helicopter, Swanson was down there, waving us off. The whirring of the blades of the helicopter mixed in with the beat of the Elvis Presley songs that were playing, booming off of the speakers like machine gun fire as we could hear the distant explosion of artillery.

The smoke from the artillery could be seen miles before we got there, although everyone seemed rather excited about the declaration of war against whoever or whatever attacked us, it didn't show. The only noises I could hear were the blades of the three helicopters slicing the air around them to stay above the ground mixed with the occasional cough or sneeze from the other soldiers in my helicopter. The speakers from the helicopter had been shut off at this point, Elvis was no longer being played over the speakers. I guess the realization of it all finally set in for us, we were truly going into the unknown, now so more than ever. 

Then the booming stopped, the artillery had ceased its fire. We were here. 

The helicopters blew the smoke away from them, creating a circle of clean air around them as they landed on the surprisingly flat, smooth, and even jungle floor that seemed to lie in wait for our arrival.  
My helicopter landed first as we were ushered out by Buckam. By default we all hit the floor and found cover behind what little rocks, logs, and other things we could find. We all learned very early on in the war that people who stayed standing for more than five seconds were the ones to get picked out by Viet Cong snipers first. However, to all of our surprise, despite the barrage of artillery earlier, the landing zone was still rather clear and tranquil. The smoke around us prevented us from seeing no more than a few feet in front of us, and the helicopters taking off and landing not too far from us prevented us from hearing much; to put it lightly, it was a mess. Hell, Charlie could've snuck and entire battalion up the mountain and I doubt we would've known as we were effectively both deaf and blind. As the last helicopter unloaded its passengers and took off, the smoke started to dissipate.


	6. Crossing the Hill

Author's Note: I sincerely apologize for not posting a new chapter for a long while...I had to go through a couple personal losses and really just hit a writer's block while also being overwhelmed academically. However, now that my academic life is becoming less stressful and I have also regained my inspiration to continue to regularly add chapters to this story. I want to personally take the time to thank everybody who stuck with the story, it is people like you who helped me regain my inspiration. As consolidation for not posting for such a long time, in addition to this chapter, I will be posting three additional chapters to make up for the lost time. Again, I apologize for not posting for a while and, as always, hope you all enjoy my story!

* * *

Crossing the Hill

"Yo? Where the fuck are we again?" asked the loose and city-riddled voice of Mack as we all looked around. The hill looked like any other hill in Vietnam, with the exception of craters, fires, and debris all over the place. Sure we may have seen the map at the briefing, but everyone really only paid attention to the 'kick their asses' part of the briefing, the briefing made by an officer that just didn't seem to be an officer. This entire situation was still weird, as I looked around, I heard Bob to the right of me yelling next to me, he was obviously spooked. Thinking that he had found enemy troops, my head spun around to see whatever he was looking at, only to find something a little more...stranger.

It sat easily at twenty to thirty feet in height, it's width could have been somewhere around fifty to eighty feet. It seemed to be made of marble, perfect clean white marble. Even though the artillery we fired should have hit it, there was not a single mark on it from what we could tell, it was perfectly clean and sturdy and new. The roof seemed to be a tealish sheet metal, a typical triangular shape like most other roofs with the added addition of some sort of blue gem in the center of it. The entrance, or what we assumed to be the entrance, was a gaping, black as oil hole that seemed to go on indefinitely. Soon enough everybody was looking at the mysterious structure which sat atop the highest point of the hill, the peak.

"What the fuck?" Was all Bob muttered out as he started to approach it by himself. I don't think even he knew what he was doing, it was like a trance, like he was being pulled into the building. Buckam and Dick tried to stop him but to no avail. Bob was now walking towards the structure across a crater-ridden field all by his lonesome, his M16 slung over his shoulder. The tension everybody felt as we watched him go was so thick that you could probably cut it with scissors.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? Get back here you dumbass!" Mitch hollered out at Bob. Bob didn't reply until he got to the front steps of the structure, he then turned around to face us, he was now well easily a mile or so away from us.

"This is a big fucking building!" He exclaimed, almost somewhat teasing us for being so scared to approach it as he leaned his back against the wall. The rest of us were all behind a couple trees which had fallen due to the artillery, we all then looked at each other, wondering what to do before Dick climbed over one of the fallen trees and slowly started to advance towards Bob. Not too long after, Bootleg Jerry, Evers, Mitch, and a couple other got up to escort Dick. Not even after a couple minutes, everyone was now crossing the field, being sure to keep and eye on the plethora of trees that surrounded us on either side. If the tension couldn't be felt before, now it could be.

One gunshot would be all it took to turn this patrol into a gunfight, and what Mack had failed to remember was something I could: Where we were. This knowledge only made me feel all the more anxious of our surroundings, our current position was just a few kilometers short of Black Virgin Mountain, a hotspot for the Viet Cong and NVA. This meant that a routine NVA or Viet Cong patrol could have easily seen or heard the helicopter we arrived in and reported it to their commanding officer, hell, perhaps there were enemy troops already in defensive positions, just waiting for the perfect moment to fire, the perfect moment to strike. Our position was terrible, the only cover we had at this point were the craters in the ground, there was very little debris on the path, and trees surrounded us on both sides, allowing the enemy to catch us in a crossfire. It would take a few minutes for helicopter support, napalm, or artillery to arrive. We could all be dead by then.

Crunch! 

Rick nearly jumped as he whipped his M16 out, spinning to his left towards the trees and jutting his M16 towards the trees. He was shaking, along with a couple other soldiers in our platoon who were curious and aimed their weapons towards the treeline to the left. Randall just walked on along, not even glancing at either tree line. Everybody heard the crunch, but not everybody was looking to see where it came from, most of the soldiers in our platoon were watching the treeline as the few others, like Randall and Buckam, decided to just keep walking along.

"You heard that shit right?!" Rick whisper shouted to me, his eyes were glued to the treeline.

"Yeah man, think Charlie's?" I asked in return, already fully knowing what his answer was going to be.

"Of course there are fuckin' gooks out there man! I know what I heard!" He exclaimed a little aggressively, but with a hint of fear and uncertainty in his voice. I looked down at the ground, immediately noticing the broken twig at Rick's feet. It was clear what had happened, Rick had stepped on the twig, breaking it and making the crunching noise. Perhaps that's why some of the others didn't stop, because they saw Rick step on it. I tapped Rick on the shoulder, trying to get his attention so that I could show him the twig. It took a few tries before he finally convinced himself to look over at me, as soon as he saw the broken twig, I could tell he was embarrassed and ashamed of himself, this was the second time he had lost his cool this week, I wondered what he thought of himself in these situations. To be completely honest though, I didn't really blame him in these situations, after all, he was still just a kid.

It took a few minutes, but we were all by the large, gaping entrance that stood before us. Nobody knew what to do now, half of us were expecting a firefight at this point, but there was nothing. Nobody was out there, at least not to our knowledge, at least not yet.

"What the fuck is this thing?" Mitch asked with a a lot of uncertainty.  
"You're asking me man…" Mack replied with, the same amount of uncertainty present in his voice. A few other murmurs passed along the platoon, in stark contrast with the deafening silence that surrounded us. Not even were there animals making their usual noises in the jungle surrounding us, there was just silence, deafening silence.


	7. Shooting Stars

Shooting Stars

You know, one thing those documentaries never can catch about Vietnam are how clear the pure the night sky was. You see, back in America, in the cities such as New York and Miami, there were all sorts of lights whether they were street lamps or neon signs for the hottest bar in town; but these lights always blocked out the stars, but not in Vietnam. There were no bars with flashing neon signs out in the jungle, and if there were, chances are they were underground and owned by Charlie. Hell, there weren't even street lamps out here. So that meant that the stars were as visible as ever, I remember how sometimes, on patrol, some of us would just take a few moments to look up into the night sky. The tranquility and beauty helping some of us forget about the war for a few moments, maybe even let us think we were home. It was peace that we desperately longed for at times.

Was this risky behavior? Of course it was! Hell, in the time we took to look up at the sky, the NVA or Viet Cong could have snuck and entire battalion right through the middle of our formation and we would have been none the wiser to it. But we didn't care in those moments, what we cared about was sitting on the porches of our homes, cracking open a cold beer, talking to our dads about how shitty work was today or how our friends got embarrassed by some random girl. The war was a rather taboo subject on the home front, something that people like us didn't like to talk about, sure news outlets and protesters brought it up 24/7, but most of us never really interacted with them. Instead, we'd talk about how some random dumbass had fallen asleep during basic training and got chewed out by one of the Drill Sergeants. Fun stories, ones that we could tell without having to be _over there_.

One story of mine is actually a deep one that really affected me during my time there. It, of course, was during basic training as a lot of military stories are. I had enlisted right after high school to the dismay of my parents, as they had wanted me to go to college and avoid the war altogether, the war was only just starting out, the Gulf of Tonkin Resolution having just passed. This meant that I'd by the time I finished basic training, I would be among some of the first troops sent to Vietnam. It was Sunday, meaning that we were to spend all day either going to church or cleaning our barracks which usually gave our Drill Sergeants excuses to have the entire company perform Physical Training. We were all standing on the grass, now was church time, so we were waiting in formation for buses to take us to church. We all stood there, the heat unforgivingly beating down on all of us as it seemed like days before the buses arrived.

"Alright! Line up in a single file column and get on the bus in an orderly fashion! If you are a _Jew_ , fall out!" The Drill Sergeant in front of us barked out like a rabid dog. Slowly and unsurely, two of the cadets fell out.

"God damn Corporal! Are you seeing this?"

The corporal next to the Drill Sergeant nodded.

"Aside from the two of you, get on the bus the rest of you!"  
The Drill Sergeant barked again, almost as if brainwashed, all of us started shuffling onto the bus until we all heard a lone voice cry out, asking _What if you don't believe in god?  
_ All of us stopped where we were.

We were all standing outside now, outside the bus, our eyes discreetly glued on the lone recruit that asked the question. The drill sergeant hovered over to the recruit, half of us expecting either just that recruit or all of us being told to get in the Front Leaning Rest Position. _A damn idealist!_ I thought to myself, _This is war! There is no need for these damned idealists! It's kill or be killed! No time to think!_

"What did you say?"  
The drill sergeant asked, a rising intensity found within his voice as he stood in front of that recruit, towering over him, threatening to fully devour him.

"W-What if you don't believe in god?"

Asked the now frail, somewhat cowering recruit, the shakiness in his voice more present than ever now. Our drill sergeant stood there for a few moments, unknown as to whether or not he was either calming down or just getting more and more angry. It was like time itself froze until the drill sergeant spoke up again, giving the recruit this sort of glance that showed understanding. That showed an unusual calmness. His voice was now barely above a whisper as he simply said to the cadet _You will_. _You just will.  
_ The recruit fell back in the formation as the drill sergeant glanced over at us, his intensity skyrocketing back up.  
"What are you ladies doing?!"

Cried the drill sergeant.

"Get in this goddamn bus or else I will PT you until Jesus H. Christ himself can't even recognize your sorry asses!"  
The drill sergeant aggressively declared as we all hurried into the bus. Including that one recruit that didn't believe in god.

There were no more questions pertaining to god for the rest of bootcamp. For a while, I was left confused, never really sure what the drill sergeant meant. It wouldn't be until my first firefight that I would know what he meant, the fear that came from the screeching of bullets. The distant roars of explosions. Cowering under a tree, hugging my M16 like a little child hugging their mother after a nightmare did I understand it. You see, it's situations like those, the ones where everything is thrown out the window, that you turn to god. You sit there, asking for his protection, to let you go home, it's the desperation of war that turns a man to god; the fear in war that makes a man pray.

Maybe that's why when, on patrol, if we all ever see a shooting star. We'd just stand there, closing our eyes and making a wish. It was the uncertainty, or the need for certainty. The need for us to know who was going to die who would be going home.

You see, the thing is about war is that the killing is terrible, yes, but it isn't the worst part about it. No, time passes and you become desentized to all that. The worst part is the uncertainty, the randomness and unpredictability of war that's the terrible part. Lying on a cot in the middle of a jungle, closing your eyes, wondering whether or not you'll get to open them again. That's the most terrifying part of war. That's why we need miracles. That's why we need shooting stars.


	8. A Rude Awakening

A Rude Awakening

We had already formed a perimeter around the structure, our M16s, Randall's M60, and our eyes trained on the jungle all around us. My M16 had a night vision device attached to it this time around, that way we weren't sitting in the complete darkness like last time. So now I was looking through the scope, seeing the world around me in a greenish haze of sorts. The scope was bulky and large, and the image I could see through the scope was somewhat staticky almost, meaning that if Charlie was too far away from me, I wouldn't be able to tell until it was too late. Funny thing is, more people were looking towards the structure, watching the entrance than there were people actually looking out at the surrounding jungle.

It was that fear of the unknown again.

What had happened only a couple nights prior had really shaken us all, even if we weren't willing to show it. Now the question became _What else is out there? What else could try and kill me?_

Now we were all both curious and mortified at the same time. Now, on top of getting shot or blown up, we were all worried if we were going to get chopped up by more of those mysterious warriors. Impaled on their spikes and paraded around like a twisted parade float of sorts. Or maybe some weird four-armed monster of sorts would jump out and start tearing us to shreds. You see, most of us had seen an alien invasion movie or two at this point, we all "knew" how the invaders usually had advanced technology and how humans like us would get either killed or taken away by these mysterious invaders.

So here we all were: forming a defensive perimeter around some mysterious structure where it was believed that mysterious invaders that tried to attack us came from. Sure they didn't have advanced technology like the little green men from those sci-fi films we all had seen, but they were still just as mysterious. Hell, even more so arguably as they were breaking that traditional norm of being the more advanced ones.

I looked over to my left to see Ricky asleep. Normal behavior for him on nights such as these. He'd always explain how he was saving up his precious energy for some big fight that had yet to come.

But one was coming, I just didn't know it yet. None of us did.

It was getting close to morning, the sky was starting to brighten up. And in Vietnam, we owned the day. I shook Ricky a little, I was getting tired and wanted to catch some shuteye, he grumbled a little and squirmed around a little.

But he didn't wake.

In a more aggressive fashion, I hit the side of his helmet. This woke him up.

"What the hell do you want man?" Ricky spat out aggressively as he reluctantly sat up.

"Your ass has been asleep the entire night! It's your turn to go on watch asshat!" I shouted back just as aggressively as I started to slump down in against the back of the foxhole Ricky and I were in. Ricky didn't protest, he instead just shook his head and muttered something under his breath, _asshole,_ or _motherfucker_ probably being among the words he muttered.

"Just do me a favor and wake me up before the shooting starts." I teased, Ricky shook his head again.

"Yeah, fuck you too man." He replied with just as snarkly as I had teased him. I then dipped my helmet over my eyes, it only seemed like seconds had passed when I was woken up by a loud _Bang!_

Before I could do anything, I heard the ding that came when a bullet hit metal as my helmet then flew off my face, I immediately hit the floor as I could now hear the staccato burst of M16 fire. It was Ricky, shooting out into the jungle in front of us. I immediately grabbed my helmet and plopped it back onto my head as I scrambled around, reaching for my M16 which was propped up against a mound of dirt in front of us. All I could hear was that damned M16 and Ricky's screaming as he shot out desperately into the jungle, he was trying to get that lucky shot.

I then heard the crack of the sniper again, I immediately grabbed the back of Ricky's shirt and yanked downwards, pulling him down onto the dirt as the dirt in front of him exploded. The sniper had just barely missed him.

"You alright man?" I asked, the dirt blinding me momentarily as I could hear shouting and the scuttling of footsteps. The other guys from the platoon had come to support us.

"What the hell happened man?!" Mack cried out with concern before there was another bang, accompanied with Mack falling over and screaming. He had been shot.

"Shit! We got a GSW! Get the doc over here!" Screamed Bob who had come to our aide.

"I'll go!" Rick cried, Bob looked over at him, perhaps in some sort of disbelief before he just nodded.

"Okay, on the count of three, we cover him! One! Two! Three!" And with that, Myself, Bob, Randall, and Zippermouth fired our weapons wildly into the jungle in front of us as Rick sprung up to his feet and ran off. Mack just kept screaming as Evers and Bootleg Joe were trying their best to tend to him.

"I'm gonna die man! Fuck! Fuck i'm dead man!" Mack kept crying out, starting to hyperventilate.

"Calm down man! You only got hit in the shoulder!" Barked the stern, deep voice of Staff Sergeant Buckam. He seemed to be like a stone when compared to everyone else in this firefight. Just knelt over Mack, applying pressure to the wound on his shoulder.

"Where the fuck is that doc man?!" Bob cried out in frustration as we all ducked again as the unseen sniper took another shot at us, this time the bullet barely missing Buckam.

"Get the fuck down man! Charlie's gon' get lucky next time man!" Bob frustratedly ordered, Buckam almost glared at the man.

"I'm trying to keep this kid alive! You all worry about getting that fucking sniper!" Buckam shouted aggressively in response to Bob's futile attempt at giving an order. That's when, almost like a miracle, Ricky returned with a field medic. "Doc" as we called him, a guy who was almost always either high or stoned...he was good at what he did once he got in the groove however.

"You really had to bring back the fucking druggie out of all the doc's, kid?!" Bootleg Joe yelled out, almost to somewhat spite Randall for almost always being stoned.

"Shut your damn trap before I-"  
"Can you two just shut the fuck up?!" Buckam barked again, interrupting Randall mid-sentence, seeming to be more agitated than last time as he was now assuming command.

"Let the doc tend to Mac! Joe, you stay with the doc in case he needs anything! Everybody keep your heads down and someone give me their fucking helmet!" Buckam ordered, Randall almost immediately threw his helmet at Buckam before hitting the dirt like the rest of us. Barnes then got out a small mirror that he usually had on hand to help him shave, the mirror had scratch marks and smudges which stained the glass like dirt on a shower curtain.

"Alright! Marlowe! Put this helmet on the end of your rifle and hold it up high enough so that the sniper would only be able to see Randall's helmet and nothing else!" Buckam commanded, I quickly shoved the rifle over the barrel of my M16 and held it up as straight as possible, Barnes held his mirror up while everybody seemed to just hold their breath out of anticipation.

 _Bang!_

The sound reverberated throughout what seemed to be the entire jungle. Randall's helmet spun around violently as I quickly lowered my rifle, letting the helmet fall off of it as there was now a dent in the otherwise perfect roundness of the piece of armor. Buckam quickly lowered the mirror.

"You see the fucker?!" Randall asked in a whisper-shout as he quickly scrambled to force the helmet back onto his head.

"Yeah, he's in the tree to the two o'clock of our position...Alright everybody! Listen up! The sniper is at the large tree at the two o'clock of our position! Approximately one football field away from us! On the count of three, we all open fire and light the thing up like the Fourth of July! Got it?"

All of us nodded in agreeance as Buckam performed a faint nod as well before closing his eyes and adjusting the helmet he was wearing slightly to fit him better.

"Alright. One...two...three!" Buckam yelled as he then sprung up and started unloading his magazine at the large tree that was slightly to the right of us. Our two o'clock like Barnes had said. Soon enough, all of us were doing what Buckam was doing, the deafening roar of Randall's M60 being the sound that dominated the landscape. The doc and Bootleg Joe were working feverishly on Mack who's cries were now drowned out by the mixture of gunfire and shouts exchanged by all of us.

"Reloading! Cover me!"  
"Keep an eye out for additional Charlies!"

"Swapping mags!"

"Cease fire!" Buckam finally ordered after what seemed to be an eternity of gunfire. Bullet casings now littered the makeshift trench we had made ourselves. It took Buckam a couple more yells before everybody got the message. Ducking back down and waiting in silence.

"How's the kid doing doc?" Buckam asked with an uncharacteristic amount of empathy behind his question.

"He seems to be doing fine! It was only a flesh wound you dumbass!" The doc laughed as he teased Mack.

"Have you ever gotten shot? Exactly! Shut yo dumbass up!" Mack retorted with a hint of embarrassment and frustration.

"Alright! I'm not going to wait on reinforcements! We're going to push and form a new perimeter! I want everybody but Rick and Marlowe to follow me! The rest of you will provide us with cover so that we can confirm the kill! Afterwards, I want all of you to form around the tree, dig in, and form a new perimeter. Got it?"

We all nodded in agreeance. Ricky and I got ready before the three of us hopped over the trench.

"Keep it in a wedge formation!"

Ricky and I silently obliged to Buckam's order, there was now deafening silence from the scene of our skirmish. That is except for the sound of Mack's wheezing, the poor kid was still in pain. It felt like hours before we approached the tree, myself and Ricky kept our weapons aimed up at the tree as Buckam kicked it. The tree shook and soon enough a corpse fell out of the tree, followed by the rifle the shooter had been using. We had got him.

"Alright! Everybody else move up and dig in!" Buckam ordered as he walked over to the corpse, followed by myself and Ricky. Everybody did as they were ordered as Buckam kicked the corpse to see if the assailant was still alive. He wasn't. Our assailant seemed to be no older than any of us, possibly even younger than most of us. His body was riddled with bloodied bullet holes like polka dots. He was wearing a dark collared shirt and what seemed to be some tan colored shorts with sandals, he was wearing different types of bracelets and rings on his hands and arms.

"Fuck man…" Ricky muttered, it was clear that the age of the sniper he had helped kill was taking a bit of a toll on him. I put a hand on his shoulder reassuringly to calm him down, part of me felt bad for the guy.

"Don't get too weepy on me. He tried to kill us, knowing full well that we would react with deadly force. It's his fault, he walked into it. _Dink motherfucker._ If we hadn't killed the him, he would've gotten more shots at our guys." Buckam said calmly, seeming to notice how shaken the kid was. His tone of voice was more reassuring now, at least more so than it was earlier.

Ricky just nodded.

Buckam patted him on the back a couple times before walking back over to Mack, leaving just Ricky and I standing over the corpse of the kid who tried to kill us.

"Let's dig in."

"Yeah.." Ricky let out sheepishly as we both bunkered down and started to dig a trench like the others were.

There was no action from the mysterious structure the entire time.


	9. Poker Night

Poker Night

Heat. No matter what, there was always heat in Vietnam. It was only really noticeable when you weren't really doing anything though, like when you had an off day. When you weren't on patrol or something like that, when you didn't really have anything else to take focus away from the heat.

Today was one of those days.

It had been hours since our last shootout, reinforcements had arrived and we had dug in well. Tents had been pitched up as Dick got orders to set up camp around the structure for security measures. It seemed that Washington was more worried about Charlie getting their hands on this structure for whatever reason than they were about us getting attacked by those creatures again. Hell, maybe that's even what they wanted, it seemed that those creatures were no match for us anyways. And a victory in Vietnam was a victory in the fight for the public image of the war.

Thankfully, Ricky and I had been called back for R&R early that night, leaving Joe, Buckam, Evers, and about seven other guys down at the perimeter we had formed during our earlier skirmish. Myself, Ricky, Mack, Randall, Bob, and Mitch were sitting in a circle inside one of the tents, it was meant for storing random foodstuffs but we had taken to using the place for poker matches. It was secluded and spacious, two things that you just never could find together in Vietnam.

"Up for some Five card draw, boys?" Asked Mitch as he effortlessly shuffled the deck of playing cards that was in his hands. Bottles and cans of beers were carefully placed towards the center so that we could easily clean up our mess, we had been at this for a couple hours at this point.

"Oh don't be a pussy Ricky! The night's still young!" Bob taunted as he nudged Ricky on the shoulder, Ricky of whom was showing signs of tiredness already. A few more taunts and Ricky took another bottle and almost gulped the entire thing down in one swig. He was caving in.

"That's the spirit." Mitch responded just as mockingly as earlier. Randall took another puff out of the joint he was smoking, filling the room in smoke and the stinkiness that came with the drug. I coughed a bit, I only tolerated the drug. I never was a fan of it, but could understand why people like Randall used the drug. It was the same reason I was a lowkey drinker.

"So what do y'all think of this?" Asked the nonchalant voice of Mitch as he passed us all cards, we all got out our wallets.

"About what?" Bob asked sarcastically as he took another puff from the cigarette he was smoking.

"Oh, I don't know...maybe the giant building that we have yet to enter and are even supposed to protect!" Cried Mack.

"Gee, thanks Cripple, I would've never guessed." Bob let out just as sarcastically as last time, mocking Mack in the last part.

"Oh fuck you too man!" Mack said casually, the fact that his shoulder was all bandaged up was becoming not really noticeable. More or less a punchline for the seven of us at this point. Ricky threw a dollar bill onto the table.

"I'm going to raise y'all by a dollar!"Ricky cried triumphantly. Bob smirked as he took out a five dollar bill and tossed it onto the table.

"How about I raise you?"

"Deal!" Ricky said as he threw four more dollar bills onto the table, the other five of us in the room all groaned collectively as we decided to meet Bob and toss our precious five dollar bills into the center of the table, totalling thirty five dollars on the line.

"Any wilds?" I asked as I started looking through the cards in my hands.

"Eh fuck it. We'll do threes and sevens." Mitch said with a shrug. Bob laid a couple of his cards facedown on the table, trading them out for another two.

"Well what do y'all think of this?" Asked Mitch again.

"Nothin' about it-" Randall spoke up, taking the joint out of his mouth as he did so.

"-orders are orders. If they want us to explore, then we'll explore. If they want somebody else to do it, ain't my fucking problem." Randall explained before taking a couple more puffs out of the joint.

"Man! Fuck that! We was the ones that fought those motherfuckers and won in the first place! If anybody deserves to get sent out there, then it should be us!" Cried Ricky again as he took another swig out of his beer bottle, finishing it up as a result. Bob shook his head.

"They'll probably just get some special ops guys to go in...you know who i'm talking about. Rangers and Green Berets. We're just a bunch of GI's, nothin' more." He explained as he traded out three of his cards. I followed and traded out three, hoping that I'd get three more jacks to complete my hand of other jacks.

"Man, imagine if they send some fuckin' Marines instead of us."

"Now that would be a war crime!" Mitch laughed, all of us laughed with him as we raised the bet by two more dollars. I dabbed some of the sweat off of my forehead as a cool breeze swept through the tent, threatening to lay ruin to our entire poker set up. All of us desperately threw ourselves on top of our cards to keep them in place.

"Any last moves boys?" Asked Mitch after the gust passed, all of us sitting back up.

"I wanna place a bet! Five more bucks says we goin' to be the ones that go into that place!" Mitch shouted confidently. Randall let out a sigh.

"Ten says we're not." He said.

"I'm foldin' " Bob said sheepishly as Mack also folded but in silence. Ricky, Mitch, Randall, and I all tossed our ten dollars into the growing pile of money. The pile now totalling one dollar short of ninety bucks.

"What makes you so confident all of a sudden?" Ricky asked.

"You'll find out." Mitch said in an effort to intimidate the kid. It didn't work as we all threw our cards down face up. All of us dumbfoundedly staring at Mitch's five ace cards.

"You fucker." Randall muttered as his jaw hung open, the joint falling to the ground. Mitch only gave us that same wide-tooth cocky smile that just spelled _fuck you_ both discreetly and indiscreetly.

"I'll be taking what's mine!" Mitch mocked as he scooped up all eighty nine dollars. Ricky just tossed his beer bottle down and stormed out of the tent with his stuff. Randall scoffed as he followed Ricky, scooping up his belongings. Bob and Mack picked up and disposed of a few of the beer bottles and cans strewn about before collecting up their gear and also leaving. It was now just Mack and I alone in the tent, we both picked our flashlights up which we used to illuminate the crate we had used as a poker table and shut them off. Outside the tent, the moonlight gave us some ambient lighting, allowing us to faintly see each other.

"So, come on, what was your secret? How'd you win?" I asked as he was just about to leave.

"A little bit of faith and a little bit of luck." Mitch reassured me as he patted my shoulder a couple times. I just looked at him confused as this was rather out of character for him.

"Didn't take you for one to trust luck." I said sarcastically as I looked at my shoulder, seeing that he had placed a card of some sort onto my shoulder. I picked it up and shone my flashlight onto it.

"I make my own luck." Mitch replied to me as he walked off. The card he had placed on my shoulder was an ace of spades.

 _That motherfucker._ I thought to myself as I slid the card under my helmet's headband.

Luck was something we would all need, manufactured or not.


	10. Halloween in Vietnam

**Author's Note:** I, again, wish to apologize for the delay in uploading new chapters. Just, a very personal situation concerning my girlfriend came up early in the month and well I basically was put through unimaginable stress levels as I helped her through it. However, the situation seems to be settling down now so I hope that I will no longer be forced to delay the updating of this story, with that said, here are two new chapters for you all to enjoy and I have two more coming down the road that will be uploaded by the end of this month!

* * *

Halloween in Vietnam

Weeks had passed, and nothing was said of the structure we were guarding. Nobody dared go inside it, nobody dared to even look at it. Engineers on leave in Saigon had been flown in from the Mekong Delta to help build amenities around our basecamp.

This only further cemented the fact that we would all be staying here for a while. Hopes of Mitch's prediction of us being ordered to investigate the structure becoming true seemed to diminish with each week that passed. Before we knew it, it was already the end of the month.

"Happy Halloween motherfucker!" Rick screamed at the top of his lungs as he suddenly shook me quickly by placing his hands on my shoulders, I jumped slightly and turned around only to see Rick, Mitch, and Mack all laughing their asses off. What I initially had thought to be an attack was nothing more than some stupid prank.

"Fuck you to asshat. Happy Halloween."

"Awh, don't be so butthurt man! This should prove as a warning to be more aware of your surroundings!" Mitch yelled out snarkily, Mack holding back a snicker.

"Yeah, whatever man," I replied casually as I had already straightened myself out. Soon, Rick and I walked back to the other two, the four of us forming a little group.

The engineers from Saigon compared with ours had really built this place up into a fully-functioning military base in only a matter of a few weeks. Not to mention that a couple of other platoons that were in the same company as we had joined us, meaning we had just about one hundred and fifty people manning this base (three platoons in total). Second Lieutenant Dick now answered to a Captain named Ronald Harrison, Ronnie for short, he was loose cannon who cared about his men greatly. He made sure to spoil us rich; making amenities such as running water and air-conditioned barracks a necessity in the construction of our base. Something we all were grateful for.

Tonight was Halloween, and being the mature, military disciplined grown-ups we were, we planned to party and drink ourselves silly 'till the sun came up. Even though we may look and act like some of the sharpest people on the planet, we were all still kids at the end of the day.

"Yo, y'all ready fo' tonight? Heard they're gon' ship in extra beers for us!" Mack exclaimed excitedly, almost to the point where he was jumping up and down with excitement.

"I guess…" I said, as much as I agreed to attend our "party" of sorts, I never really was a party animal in the 'Nam. A lot of guys weren't. To guys like us, parties like these reminded us of home...reminded us a little too much of home I should say. It reminded us of home so much that instead of forgetting about going home during the party, we ended up missing it more.

"Oh, don't tell me Ricky here scared the party out of you!" Mitch exclaimed, Rick, chuckling a bit more. I then let a faint smile creep its way onto my face.

"Nah! Not at all! I was just trying to figure out how to get y'all back for this!" I exclaimed playfully, not wanting to ruin the mood. The others just laughed.

"Yeah, good luck with that man. Anyways, see ya later dude. Remember: Second Platoon's barracks are where we're goin' man." Mitch so aptly reminded me as he walked off with Mack who held a cowabunga sign out at us. Rick then looked over at me and put his hand on my shoulder.

"Hey man, I know somethin's up. I know yo' white ass too well man, just spit it out." He beckoned, I shook my head.

"It ain't goin' hurt nobody man, come on!" He exclaimed as he nudged my shoulder, I looked at him for a couple of moments before sitting down, my arms resting crossed over each other and on my knees which were pointed upwards since my feet and buttocks were placed firmly and flatly on the ground.

"Well you gon' tell me what's wrong now?" Rick asked curiously as he sat down next to me, the setting sun casting an orange haze and stretching our shadows out on the ground. I shrugged, internally deciding that letting him know what I was feeling wouldn't cause any problems. I closed my eyes and sighed a little, shaking my head even before I spoke up.

"I don't know man...it's just that party like these always make me want to go home more than I want to forget about it," I explained, a look of sympathy coming from Rick as his eyes twinkled a little bit.

"Keep goin' man...I'm here to help." He said reassuringly. He was sitting atop his helmet which was firmly placed on the ground under hit. I then pulled out a cigarette, popping one in my mouth as I offered one to Rick. He declined, I shrugged again and lit the cigarette, causing a tiny plume of smoke to come from it before I continued.

"Just...I know it's a weird feeling. But as much as I don't really have much back there...I'd still much rather be there than here." I finished, taking a couple of puffs out of my cigarettes as Rick stared at me dumbfoundedly, not really knowing what to tell me. It took him a few minutes to think of something to say, he looked up sheepishly before speaking.

"I-I know it sucks man...but we just gotta power through the rest of our deployments...how long you got left anyways, man?" Rick asked curiously as he just stared out in front of us. I thought for a little as I took a couple more puffs out of the cigarette I had been smoking. If I had to be honest, I didn't even know the answer to that question myself! I had been here ever since '65, only having been home maybe four times in the three years I've been in the Army.

Home was almost as foreign as Vietnam for me, maybe, even more, so...nothing was really waiting for me back in the states. I was an only child, my grandfather and grandmother had passed away decades ago, my parents stopped talking to me after I joined the Army, and I didn't have a real love life. Sure I had a girlfriend at one point...but that relationship fell flat when I found that she was sleeping with some guy on the football team during my junior year in high school. The more and more I realized that I really was leaving nothing behind, the more and more, ironically, I wished to be home.

Maybe that's why I joined the Army...to just get away from it all. Make a new me...I don't really know if I had to be honest…

"A while." I guessed, figuring that I wasn't getting out anytime soon. Especially not with this weird structure spewing out these "people" of whom we still knew nothing about.

The prisoners we had captured from the village all those weeks ago were of no helps. They spoke neither English or Vietnamese, meaning that Army Intelligence was left scratching their heads. It didn't help that a majority of them ended up dying from diseases such as Malaria while imprisoned anyways.

"Damn man, you ain't never goin' home at this point!" Rick cried with sympathy towards me, the sympathy of which I didn't really need. I shrugged, not really knowing what to do or say. Rick just nodded, as if he understood why I was speechless. If I had to be honest, he wasn't really wrong. That's when Rick looked over at my watch since he didn't have one himself.

"It's gettin' real close to eight-man, we'd better get goin' if we wanna make it in time," Rick said as he started to walk off, not even waiting for my response as he probably already knew what mine was. I quickly caught up with him as we both made our way to Second Platoon's barracks.

Our platoon barracks all surrounded one large mess hall that sat in the middle of the jungle's opening. These were almost right next to the six helipads as space was limited and we needed to be able to fit in at least four helipads. These helipads were nothing more than large, flat pieces of wood that had been smoothed out and had a large white "H" with a circle around it painted on the center of the pad. Just beyond the helipads and opposite to the barracks and mess hall was the infirmary which also had a helipad nearby for medevac. It was not too far from the armory which was to the left of the building. Further left, almost wrapping around to the barracks was the officer housing, the Captain's housing being the most spectacular structure of course. Everything was spaced out so that not everything would be destroyed in an artillery strike, and barbed wire combined with sniper nests, pillboxes, and sandbags provided us all with a sense of security that was just hard to come by in Vietnam.

A sense of security which would soon be shattered.

Ricky and I probably could've found where the party of sorts was being hosted just by smell alone, the place reeked of pot. A common drug used by us in Vietnam. The smell was so overpowering that part of me wanted to just turn around and go back to my platoon's barracks, but I persisted nonetheless as I had walked all the way here and was too exhausted to walk all the way to my platoon's barracks. Rick went in front of me, balling his right hand into a fist and pounding it against the wood door twice.

No response, but we could hear indistinct chatter and music coming from inside the barracks, and the smell of pot was almost overpowering every other smell at this point. So we both knew this was where the party was. Rick knocked again but harder, this time we could hear someone opening the door.

The door opened to reveal a large, buff black man. He easily towered us both in height and in muscle build. I myself was only five feet and ten inches tall, weighing just over one hundred and eighty pounds. I had slick, black hair that was straight and long - yet short enough to meet the Army's regulations, I was also cleanly shaven like most of the other guys in my platoon. My eyes were, what my ex-girlfriend would say, a piercing sky blue color that just seemed to naturally attract people towards me. I wasn't really built but I wasn't thin or scrawny either, I was more-so built like the average joe.

I had more going for me in terms of looks than I did in terms of intimidation.

Rick, on the other hand, was a scrawny black kid, one look at him and you'd assume he was malnourished or something. He definitely looked young, like about the age of a college freshman whereas it was easy to tell that I already had some years in. He had short black hair formed in an afro of sorts, but again, short enough to get past the Army's regulations. He had dark brown eyes as opposed to my blue ones. I never did ask how much he weighed, but it was easy to assume that he was anywhere between one hundred and fifty pounds to one hundred and seventy-five pounds. As for height, he was slightly taller than me, six feet would be my best guess.

"What'cha want?" Asked the man blocking the entrance to the barracks, his voice deep with a very heavy southern accent. I had come from North Carolina, meaning that I had a very, very slight southern tinge to my voice. Rick was from the Bronx, meaning he had a city hoodlum accent. Neither of our voices matching this guy's deepness though.

"We're here for the party?" I inquired, the smell of pot emanating from the area behind him already getting me close to passing out.

"Who sent y'all?"

"Mack and Mitch told us to come here, we're with First Platoon."

The man blinked a couple of times before looking back over behind him and calling out for Mack, his voice seeming to reverberate throughout the entire structure, shaking it to its core. It was clear that this was a guy you did not want to mess with. Rick and I looked at each other anxiously, wondering what the hell we were getting ourselves into. We could vaguely see a bunch of guys just laughing at each other; getting high, stoned, or drunk; or just hanging around the corners of the room to mind their own business.

Soon enough, Mack wobbled to the door, he was only five feet and five inches tall, a lighter skin tone when compared to Rick and the guy who was standing at the door. He had a small, faint black ratstache under his nose but no hair as he had shaved it all off after joining the Army. His blackish eyes landed on the two of us, studying the two of us a little.

"Yo Mack, it's us, man! Marlowe and Ricky!" Rick cried, trying to see if he could bring Mack back to reality. It seemed to take Mack a couple of seconds as he seemed to be on something before he finally came back to us and smiled.

"Y'all took long enough! Did my man Kong ova' here give you two trouble?" Mack asked enthusiastically as he ushered the two of us into the building, shutting the door behind us. Rick and I followed Mack, past "Kong" and a couple of other guys we didn't really know all too well. This party was mainly centered around the radio that was to the back of the room, there, people were jamming out to some rock and roll while emptying beer cans and getting high. Others were strewn throughout the room in groups playing poker with each other like we were when Mitch bet that we'd be going into the structure...speaking of Mitch…

"What the hell?" Rick asked as he looked over at Mitch. I followed his gaze to the center of the room where a sizeable crowd had gathered around Mitch. I could see the stubble which was plastered all over his chin from all the way from where I was standing, he was wearing his aviators with what seemed to be a rice hat which concealed his flowing brown hair for the most part. Rick and I walked up to him, it was clear he was under the influence of something, I just couldn't tell if it was the pot or the beers that had gotten to him.

"What are you doing man?" I asked him as he tilted his head back a little so that he was looking down at us, a drunk grin crept across his face.

"It's Halloween, right man?" He asked sounding really spaced out like he just wasn't all there right now. Rick and I nodded.

"Well, you dress up for Halloween right?" He continued, Bob was in the background laughing his ass off as were a few other guys in the crowd around Mitch. Again, Rick and I nodded, the both of us wanting to see where the farmhand from West Virginia was going to take this, his thick southern accent combined with the way he was speaking making it hard for us to take the guy seriously.

"Well, I decided to be a dink for Halloween!" He joked before he squinted his eyes and raised his fist in the air before speaking again.

"I come and kill you GI! Follow the Ho Chi Minh Trail!" He croaked in a pretty racist portrayal of an Asian person. This garnered some laughs out of the crowd, hell, just his mannerisms alone warranted a giggle out of me.

"Try not to hurt yourself too much Mitch." I teased as I started to walk off to see who else was around, he said shouted some gibberish which I assumed was him trying to mimic the Vietnamese language which ended up garnering some more laughs out of the crowd. Now that I look back on it, I'm pretty sure I heard Rick laughing among the others. I went over to the stack of beer cans over by the door and picked one up for myself, cracking it open as I sat down on one of the beds which overlooked what seemed to be a pretty intense poker match.

"Watch yo wallets, boys! By the time I'm through, I'll be able to buy all yo broke asses a mansion or two!" Cried Mack in his usual cocky tone of voice. Randall was just puffing his joint, his grey eyes seeming to pierce right through Mack, Randall himself was from a small town in Georgia if I remember correctly, he worked as an auto-mechanic before joining the Army since his father had served in Korea. He was the same height as I but weighed around one hundred and eighty to two hundred pounds, he had shaggy dirty blonde hair which only seemed to compliment his grey eye color.

"Don't get too cocky now kid," Randall mumbled, his voice barely louder than a whisper. Mack just laughed, being drunk and cocky, a combination that would soon undo him here. I counted at least one hundred and fifty dollars stacked up on the middle of the table the two were playing poker on. The other players had folded and were watching this match with the same amount of anticipation that I had.

"Whatever man!" Mack yelled as he played his hand, throwing down three jacks and a couple of random number cards, they were playing five card draw.

"Beat that man!" He triumphed, Randall only let out a grin as he threw down five aces, the same hand Mitch had used to beat us all that one night. Mack's jaw hit the floor as he helplessly watched a now chuckling Randall scoop up all the money.

"Happy Halloween motherfucker." Randall teased, Mack closed his jaw and got up crossing his arms.

"Whatever man! You just got lucky! I bet I'll beat yo ass if I rematch you!" Mack exclaimed Randall was already walking away with his new prize money in his arms.

"That's what you said an hour ago, kid." He stated flatly, everyone including me letting out a chuckle. Mack then sat back down, seeming defeated as the sound of two helicopters passed overhead. They were still flying in supplies and manpower for the base.

The barracks we were in was the one closest to the structure, the one that had let out those invaders all those weeks ago, it was already starting to drift towards the back of my mind as nothing really came of the thing. We never received orders nor did anything else come out of it. It just stood there, eerily still in pristine condition. A couple of guys were just watching the thing from a couple of windows out of curiosity, one of those guys being Rick who I assumed got bored of Mitch's act.

I was just about to go see if I could spectate or join in on another poker match when the rumble of some sort of bugle seemed to shake this building to its very core. It was a sound I recognized...Rick and I had both heard it when we were in the Rainy Village all those weeks ago..but it couldn't be…

"Holy shit!" Rick cried. Now everybody had immediately stopped what they were doing to rush over to the windows. Blocking the view for me of course.

"Jesus Christ! That's a lot of them fuckers!" Cried, Bob. I wrestled my way to the window to see what everybody was getting excited over, and then I saw it.

My initial assumption as to what the sound was...it was right!

We could hear what sounded like hundreds of people marching, already almost a platoon full of those warriors that we had massacred weeks ago was in sight. Their armor seemed slightly different, and the flag their flag bearer was displaying was different than the last one...but they were the otherworldly...or other timely invaders from a month ago. Brandishing battle axes, swords, and bows and arrows.

All of them stopped just outside the structure, the gate...there were hundreds of them in sight now, with god knows how many more out of sight. All of us were frozen to the windows, looking out at them in awe, they did not seem to notice us as they started looking around at their surroundings, seeming to be just as shocked as we were.

It was a stalemate, nobody knew what to do. Most of us were just kids really, not hardened warriors. But my gut feeling just told me that whoever-whatever-these things were, they weren't looking to make any friends. Then before any of us could write this off as some vision that came with being under the influence, our eardrums were shattered by the blaring of an alarm through the various speakers planted in the different structures and stuck on poles around the perimeter. Surprisingly enough, Dick's voice was what we heard, a desperate cry:

"To all units in the AO, this is not a drill, multiple hostiles have been spotted inside the installation! We are at Code Red! I repeat, this is not a drill, we are at Code Red!"


	11. Code Red

Code Red

"Take ONE rifle and FIVE mags, boys! We don't got enough for anybody to take any extras!"

Cried the flat and monotone, yet the alert and shaken voice of the poor young soldier who was tasked with keeping the inventory of the armory that night. Whether anybody actually did as the kid commanded is something I don't know. We were all like ants swarming a discarded potato chip on the ground, everybody was thirsty for blood now. Not only did these fuckers attack us before, they now had the balls to attack us while we were partying? Hell no! No crime like that goes unanswered in the jungle!

MPs and some other infantry units had already engaged the intruders, firing in full auto as opposed to short bursts or single shots. Probably because there were simply too many of them to pick off with a double tap.

"Ready to get some?"

Rick asked with what sounded like excitement as he pumped the shotgun he had taken. The young fool, I bet he didn't even know how bad the recoil on the Remington he was no wielding really was. Most of us had left our weapons behind in our barracks and simply didn't think we'd make the fight quick enough if we wasted time traveling all the way to our barracks and back. Plus now it was a matter of survival, not military conduct.

"Don't get too cocky now."

I reminded Rick, it was clear he was under the influence of something, and the last thing I needed was this kid doing something stupid and getting friendly-fucked or worse. Rick just rapidly nodded as Rick and I, along with a couple of other soldiers from Bravo Platoon made our way to the sound of the gunfire and wails of pain. Soon enough, we made it to the building, stumbling across a large group of MPs who were taking cover by a Willys Jeep that had an M60 stuck on the back of it.

"Get some!"

The gunner screamed as he pulled on the trigger, laying down fire on what seemed to be an endless wave of beasts, medieval warriors, and other things that seemed to come straight out of a JRR Tolkien novel. Quickly, I started opening fire; human, animal, monster, other-it didn't matter. They were all the enemy now.

"Light 'em up! This is the Alamo 2.0!"

Cried what I assumed was one of the MPs next to us shooting. The horde of warriors was running at us with all their might only to be cut down, shredded by the M60s, M16s, Remingtons, Colt 1911s, Thompsons, Grease Guns, and any other firearm that had found its ways into the hands of any of the drugged-out bloodthirsty soldiers in the base. I looked over my left, checking on Ricky who wasn't getting many shots off as most of the enemies were falling before they came within range of his shotgun.

To these warriors, we probably didn't even look like an army, let alone the Army.

While the MPs and units that were already patrolling the base had their uniforms squared away, the majority of the rest of us didn't. I, for instance, had my blouse fully unbuttoned and wasn't even wearing a kevlar vest nor my headgear as that was stored in the pocket of my trousers which were covering up my unlaced boots. Some of the guys like Randall didn't have their blouses on and instead had them tied around their waist or stored back in their barracks. That or they were shirtless like Mack was.

The entire scene was chaos now, all that could be heard were the battle cries of the intruders, battle cries of our own men, gunfire, and Dick's alarm. However, there was suddenly a new noise, a roaring of some sort, no, it was mechanical. It was getting louder, no, closer. It was getting closer! An engine! Suddenly in the middle of the firefight, an M113 APC ran over several of the invaders and turned its turret around to face them and the structure they were pouring out from.

"Cease fire! Cease fuckin' fire!"

I cried out, waving my arms around like a madman, soon enough, everybody got the message and stopped firing as the M113 let the flamethrower it had for a turret lose. Now, all we could hear was the roar of the flamethrower mixed in with the inhuman and unintelligible screams of the once hundreds of troop strong army as they started to get burned alive.

"Crazy motherfucker."

Rick muttered under his breath as he watched the gunner in amazement. I couldn't help but agree with him. It was like watching a dragon at work, all we could see was a bright orange stream being sprayed all over whatever was in front of the APC which was blocking our view now. Eventually, the APC flames stopped and the screaming stopped. The fight was over...but it was so easy. Too easy.

"Rick, get in this jeep with me!"

I commanded, Rick looked at me with confusion written all over his face.

"Where we goin? Fight's ova' man! We won!"

"Just come with me!"

I snapped, reluctantly, Rick climbed in the jeep with me. The gunner had agreed to come with us thankfully, and I started the jeep, driving us around to the edge of the perimeter where nobody was. As I had guessed, everybody had left their post to go join in on the action meaning Charlie or they could have easily already begun flanking us. Slowly, I reloaded my M16, realizing I was now on my last mag.

"How many shells do you have man?"

"Only three! Used the others up back there!"

Rick cried, I dropped an f-bomb under my breath as I looked up at the gunner and asked how much ammo he had. But before he could answer, we heard an arrow plunged right into the gunner's eye. He fell off of the jeep and onto the ground, spazzing as he started screaming. Desperately trying to clutch his eye.

"My eye! The fuckers got my eye! I can't see! Fuck man! I'm gonna die! Fuck!"

Rick and I suddenly heard several more arrows fell to the earth. The two of us quickly got out of the jeep and behind it to get out of sight. I crawled over to the gunner, pinning him to the ground.

"Calm the fuck down man! You're going to be alright! Just stay down and don't do anything!"

I whisper-shouted to the gunner who had long since stopped fighting against me, he just whimpered and weakly nodded as I unpinned him, going back over to Rick who handed me my M16.

"You see him?"

I asked Rick shook his head. Another arrow nearly grazed us.

"In the woods man! That's where it came from!"

Rick whisper-shouted, without thinking, I quickly hopped up and manned the M60, lighting up the treeline in front of me. Soon enough, Rick joined me, grabbing one of the spare M16s that were strapped to the jeep. Eventually, more and more soldiers joined me in shooting up the treeline.

Shoot first, ask questions later.

That was everybody's mentality now a couple of field medics carried the gunner away. What seemed like years had passed by before I heard the deafening click of the M60. I had run out of ammo. Everybody soon stopped firing as they had assumed I had stopped on purpose.

"My M16 Rick, hand it to me."

I commanded, without hesitation, Rick tossed me my M16. I caught it and hopped off the jeep, keeping my M16 aimed in front of me as I started creeping out towards the treeline. A couple of brave souls followed me, we were all now looking for a body. One of the guys to the right of me took a break under one of the trees, shaking it a little and causing a couple of droplets of blood to fall from it.

We found our body, now time to confirm the kill.

I then went up to the tree and jabbed it with my M16 a couple of times, what fell was what seemed to be a young girl, in her early 20s I assume. She had bunny ears and what seemed to be the bare minimum of armor on, she had bullet holes riddled all over her like a slice of swiss cheese and was slightly twitching.

"Christ! Fucker's still alive!"

Cried the soldier to my right, followed by the gasp of the one to my left.

"Shit man! You right!"

The bunny girl's hazel-colored eyes were already starting to drain of color as she frantically looked around before she rested her eyes on mine as I was staring right into her eyes. She was dying. One of the soldiers kicked the crossbow she had fallen out of the tree with so that she couldn't reach it, she was defenseless now. Some other soldiers including Randall had run up to see what we were looking at. Some gasped while others just asked what the fuck we were looking at.

My hand was resting on my pistol holster. Almost as if he could read my mind, Randall just muttered one phrase:

"Fuckin do it, man."

She was dying, I was even convinced that she was begging me to do it. To end this unbearable pain that she had probably never felt before. A pain that nobody had told her about or taught her. I quickly whipped my handgun out and shot her right in between her eyes.

All the light left her eyes, she was dead now. A limp, corpse of what was a warrior.

"That was fuckin' intense man."

Randall muttered.


	12. War Hero

**Author's Note:** I realize that this is a little after the end of April, I've been a little busy with college, but now that I have some free time, I strive to meet my deadlines more effectively. With that said, I hope you all enjoy these two chapters! As always, constructive criticism is welcome!

* * *

War Hero

His face was covered in bandages, the part covering his eye was very red. He was unconscious right now, but I still couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more I could've done to help him.

I don't know, it was just one of those feelings you can't shake after something bad happens, after a bit, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around to see Rick, he just shook his head lightly and gave me a look of sympathy.

"I know that look man, there wasn't nothin' you could do," Rick said reassuringly, he was a good-hearted kid who usually knew what to say in situations like these. However, before I could say anything in return, he spoke up again.

"By the way, there some guys out there lookin' for you." He added, I blinked a couple of times, was I in trouble?

"You know what they want?" I asked Rick, he shook his head.

"They outside waitin' for you man!" Rick exclaimed, I nodded and got all my stuff together, starting to make my way out of there. The field hospital was nothing more than a large tent pitched up with several beds lined in rows with medics going around and treating the patients. There weren't many here, aside from the gunner, most of the other guys were here because they were sick, hungover, had minor injuries like a twisted ankle, or had faked something so that they could avoid morning physical training.

Upon getting out of the field hospital I saw two MPs standing by a Willys Jeep, their M16s slung across them on their backs. One of them stepped towards me before speaking up.

"Are you Corporal Martin Marlowe?" Asked the MP who stepped forward, he wore three chevrons on his shoulders which signaled that he was a sergeant. I just nodded, the sergeant looked over at the other MP who was a corporal like I was which was shown by the two chevrons he wore on his shoulders, the sergeant and the corporal then said something to the corporal before nodding and looking back over at me.

"Come with us." The sergeant commanded, I obliged, going towards the two MPs as the corporal got in the driver's seat while I got in the back. The sergeant was the last to get in, sitting in the passenger seat next to the corporal. The jeep then sputtered to life as it then started moving. Although I couldn't hear much, I was able to make out some of the small talks that occurred between the sergeant and corporal.

"Yo sarge, you hear the latest?" Asked the corporal, the sergeant shook his head.

"Nah man, not this time." Replied to the stern voice of the sergeant, the corporal then chuckled.

"Really man?" The corporal asked teasingly with a chuckle.

"Really." The sergeant assured, the corporal then just sighed before speaking up again.

"Well, apparently HQ's lookin' to bump someone up 'round here." The corporal explained, the sergeant snapped his head over at the corporal who had his eyes

"Shit man, you know who?" Asked the sergeant, seemingly intrigued by this, perhaps by the idea of the promotion going to him. The corporal, however, just shook his head.

"Damn…" The sergeant responded with a hint of disappointment, the corporal then spoke up again.

"Uhm, hey sarge...you think they tryna promote me?" Asked the corporal, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to look the sergeant in the eyes. The sergeant only laughed as the jeep came to a stop.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, kid. Anyways, the chopper's for you, corporal." The sergeant explained as I hopped out the jeep, fixing my patrol cap a little as I gazed upon the OH-6 helicopter that was waiting for me. I was instantly overtaken with confusion.

"Where am I going?" I asked with confusion.

"Back to the village!" Replied the sergeant, using his command voice to do so.

"Now get in the bird! There'll be two escorts waiting for you at the village when you land!" He explained as he then climbed back into the jeep with the corporal.

"Have a nice ride!" He then called out as he then drove off with the corporal, I sighed as I then got in the back of the OH-6, commonly referred to as the Little Bird, mainly due to the helicopter's small size. The pilot and co-pilot didn't bother giving me some superficial greeting they were most likely given as they then immediately got to work, starting the helicopter.

Slowly, the engines roared to life as the helicopter blades began to spin.

The flight was just over ten minutes, I was just barely starting to nod off when the helicopter opened and the pilot ordered me out, I slowly climbed out of the helicopter to be greeted by two other military policemen.

The village was just as I had remembered it, even the sign pointing to the different cities was still standing tall. The two military policemen escorted me to a large village hut surrounded by sandbags and barbed wire, it was in the center of town, next to the cathedral. Once in front of the structure, I knocked on the door twice, my knocking almost being drawn out by the sounds of helicopters, APCs, jeeps, and trucks driving around.

"Corporal Marlowe?" A deep, authoritative voice asked from behind the door.

"This is him," I replied, a few moments later, the door swung open to reveal a rather swanky interior.

The walls were lined with various maps of the region we were in, the FOB and the structure we were watching were both marked on the map, making the distance between the village and FOB seem farther than they really were. I was in what seemed to be the main living area, an open space where the maps were, along with some desks where enlisted personnel and NCOs were doing paperwork, the battery operated fans strewn about the space making the temperature of the structure barely manageable. To the left of me was a door with a paper taped to the door, CAPTAIN RONALD HARRISON was written on the paper.

"The Cap'n wants to see you." Said the private who let me in, I nodded and knocked on captain's door a couple of times.

"It's open." Said the loud yet soft voice of the captain, upon letting myself in, I came to notice that it wouldn't just be myself and the Captain. Inside was also Second Lieutenant Dick, and Staff Sergeant Buckam. There were only two reasons why the three of these men would be wanting to see me: either because I was in grave trouble, or because I was getting some sort of promotion. I tensed up a little as I figured that I wasn't getting a promotion anytime soon, the captain chuckled a bit.

"Calm down son, we ain't grillin' you or nothin' like that." Reassured the captain, I nodded and let myself relax a little before the captain leaned forward, Dick and Buckam's eyes trained on me. Watching me.

"Well, I'm just gon' skip the greetings here and cut straight to the point: the reason the three of us brought you here is that you have demonstrated a great level of leadership and character over the past couple of months." Explained the captain, I looked confused which caught the attention of the captain, he only grinned.

"Somethin' not right? You are Corporal Martin Marlowe with the 7th Cavalry, right?" Asked the captain jokingly. The Captain then began reading out loud my background in the service so far.

"Enlisted after graduatin' from the University of Virginia, good school, went there myself, graduated with a bachelor's in economics? Damn son, what you gon' do with a bachelor's in economics? Pay my taxes for me?" He asked jokingly, garnering a chuckle out of everybody in the room but me, I didn't take much offense to this as there were worse degrees I could've gotten. However, the captain seemed to notice that I wasn't laughing along and stopped, motioning for everybody to stop laughing which they all did.

"Just pullin' your leg son. But hot damn, you truly have outdone yourself: was at Ia Drang with Buckam, and have since then performed in a bunch of other skirmishes. You've got more combat under your belt then half the battalion!" He exclaimed as he then went over to the window, grabbing a cigar and putting it in his mouth as he then lit it. I just remained seated and silent as Dick then spoke up.

"He was also the soldier that ran across those other troops. Could've snuck a whole damn battalion if it wasn't for him." The lieutenant added, praising me even though it was Rick who had first detected them. But I digressed, Dick wasn't completely wrong, so that just automatically made him right. That's how things worked down here.

I looked over to the captain who was still smoking his cigar. He nodded a couple of times before heading back to his seat, the smoke emitting from the Cuban cigar threatening to suffocate me. The captain had a deadpan face as he then gave me some damn near earth-shattering news.

"Son, the reason we're here is that we've all come to the agreement that you ought to be an officer. A leader, a true one as you have the backbone and experience of one." The captain explained, my jaw must've hit the floor as the captain chuckled again, another puff of cigar smoke coming straight at me.

"Well, what'd you think we brought you up here for son? Just to compliment you? This ain't the airforce, we're the ground-pounders here. Now a fresh set of BDUs, as well as everythin' else you're goin' to need, is in a chopper that's leavin' at 1800 hours sharp. You miss it, there ain't goin' to be another chopper. Got that?" Explained the captain, I quickly regained my composure and nodded, I was about to leave before I thought of Rick. The kid couldn't even handle himself properly while we were in the foxhole, now I was suddenly going to be gone for months?

Buckam must've noticed my hesitation as he got up and led me out of the building, the two of us were outside now. It was about 1700 hours, or 5:00 in the evening when Buckam sat down on the ground under the shade, motioning for me to sit down next to him which I did. Then, while looking out into the distance, he spoke up.

"What's the matter. I've seen that look back in Ia Drang and it usually means that you ain't feelin' too peachy, so what's wrong? Don't wanna be no butter-bar?" He asked with a slight chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. It didn't work, Buckam giving a slight frown as he realized this.

"Seriously man, what's wrong?" He asked in a more serious tone with a straight face, his hand on my shoulder. After a bit, I finally gave in and sighed.

"Well just-I don't know about this, y' know?" I explained, my voice barely above a whisper, but thankfully Buckam heard me.

"What do you mean you don't know? Myself, the LT, and the captain are pretty damn sure that this is the right thing for you. The best thing." He reassured me, but his answer didn't really do much to ease my tensions about this.

"I know...but well, what happens if somebody gets hurt because of me?" I asked, Buckam let out a soft chuckle.

"This is war Marlowe, that's inevitable." He said bluntly, I shook my head.

"I'm talking about someone on our side, Buckam," I added, this seemed to stump Buckam for a moment or two as he was speechless, however, after a bit, he sighed and looked me straight in the eyes.

"Look, man, like I said earlier, this is war. People die, people get hurt. Just the fact that you're asking that question means a lot, it really does. Hell, you certainly seem to have more regard for us than most officers nowadays do...that's why I know you'll do fine. You can't save everybody, not here. No, as much as that'd be nice, that just ain't how things go in war, or hell, in life even. I have faith that you'll be a great leader, so go out there and prove me right, Marlowe."

I sat there for a good few moments, honestly impressed by Buckam's speech. In all the time I've known him, from 1965 to onward, I never knew he was that charismatic. His speech really resonated with me...hell, even decades after the war, I still remember every detail of that conversation. Every single word, every facial expression, Buckam's reassuring grin as he left me on that bench that afternoon.

All of it.

I honestly hope that what I'm writing here does reach him someday...wherever he may be. I always looked up to him really, maybe more so than my own parents. That's the thing about the military, despite what you hear about going off to some foreign land and dying, it never is about that. Even in hell, human bonds like the one I made with Staff Sergeant Jessie Buckam is what it all comes down to in the end. So maybe by luck, this'll all find its way to his doorstep, if it does, then I hope I proved you right, Buckam.


	13. Homecoming

Homecoming

Twelve weeks was how long OCS was, down at Fort Benning, Georgia. A full month back home...or, well, someplace close enough at least. I made it through the program alright, it wasn't too hard, I'd honestly make the argument that Bootcamp was way harder than most of OCS. But I digress, during my time there, in Fort Benning, all I could think about was getting back to my unit. My platoon. Going back to the Jungle. As much as I hated the damn place, I missed it more than I could ever describe with words.

Now I was sitting in a C130, flying to Tân Sơn Nhứt Airbase, the main airbase in Saigon. One of the only airbases that had a runway large enough and safe enough to land an entire C130. From there, I was to be flown back to the village and then to the hill.

I was most anxious as what-if scenarios filled my mind.

What if my old platoon got transferred elsewhere? What if they got killed?

God, just those thoughts alone would've probably driven me mad if I hadn't slept at all before or during the flight. Aside from the anxiety, the flight was a blur. Nothing really eventful happened, it seemed like only mere seconds passed before we all could feel the aircraft touchdown. A voice then came over the interior speakers of the plane.

"We have arrived at our destination, thank you for choosing 'Nam Airlines, enjoy the rest of your day." The pilot joked as the ramp in the back of the plane slowly opened, revealing the large concrete runway we landed on. Slowly we all filed out of the plane, the heat of Georgia was nothing compared to the skin-melting heat that was always present in Vietnam. The rucksack I was lugging around felt a hundred times heavier because of this, it had nearly gotten to the point where I wanted to keel over and fall asleep, but my schedule didn't allow that.

"Second Lieutenant Martin Marlowe? Is there a Second Lieutenant Martin Marlowe present?" The authoritative voice of a military policeman called out as he, along with another military policeman, approached the now dissipating crowd of second lieutenants in a Willys Jeep. Most of whom were classmates of mine. It was hard to heat the MP over the sound of the C130 shutting down and the sputtering of the jeep's engine, however, upon hearing my name, I raised my hand. The two MPs pulled up right in front of me, both saluting me as I saluted them back before one of them spoke up.

"My name is Sergeant Huntley, this is Private Brown, we have orders to transport and escort you to Phu Loi, from there, you'll be transported to Nha Trang before being flown to Camp Enari for a briefing, from there you'll be transported to your assignment, is that understood?" The MP explained as he started the jeep.

"Well, where are we going right now then?" I asked, the jeep was already moving as the private then turned around to answer my question.

"Phu Loi, sir, from there you'll be flown to Nha Trang where you'll then be flown to Camp Enari." Explained the private as the sergeant kept driving.

"Why not just fly me to that basecamp from here?" I asked, the private spoke up again.

"This field's booked and there are no birds on standby, our orders stressed that time was of the essence, sir. The boys down at Camp Enari agreed to arrange transport for you." He explained, I nodded and stopped asking questions, the private turned back around to watch the road. This jeep had a roof, unlike the roofless ones I usually rode in. I figured this was perhaps for my protection as I now was apparently involved in some sort of assignment. I didn't bother asking either of the MPs as to what exactly this "assignment" they were referencing was as I just knew they either didn't know or would tell me that they were under strict orders not to tell me.

Classic Operational Security (OPSEC) and bureaucracy at work. Not that it was a bad thing, no, it's just during times like these where all the red tape that came with OPSEC and bureaucracy got unbearable to deal with. It felt like just yesterday I was only a corporal in the Army, now I was miraculously a second lieutenant.

Just like that.

It was like magic, something that I would soon believe in fully. I looked out one of the windows to see the city that was Saigon: the streets bumbling with traffic, vehicles belonging to civilians, the Army, or the South Vietnamese military. There were servicemen from all branches walking around the city, some mingling with the local population, while others were heading into bars and nightclubs which were scattered throughout the city. In the distance, there were some kids playing under a faucet like it was a waterpark while their mothers were eating in a diner just across the street from them.

One look at this place, and it'd be hard to believe that bombings, assassinations, and other acts of violence and terrorism took place here on a daily basis. While the South Vietnamese police and military in conjunction with our forces were putting out their best efforts to prevent future attacks, the sneaky bastards always found a way. Whether that was shoving a bomb into a shoebox; doing drive-bys on motorcycles; or by killing local journalists, politicians, military figures in both the ARVN (Army of the Republic of Vietnam) and our military, and basically anybody that spoke out against the VC and NVA; they found a way to keep us all on edge.

I suddenly woke up when I felt the jeep come to a stop, I looked around before realizing that I had fallen asleep in the jeep. Guess the jet lag really got to me.

"We have arrived at Phu Loi, sir. There's a chinook waiting for you, it'll be full of guys from the 82nd Airborne. You'll be flown to Nha Trang where it has been agreed that you'll spend the night, you'll be flown out to Camp Enari first thing next morning." Explained the sergeant as I got out of the jeep.

"Good luck on your assignment, sir." Added the private as they both then drove off, leaving me to look around the base. The Chinook was rather easy to spot as it was both large and loud. Thankfully, it was rather close by too, meaning that I wouldn't have to lug my rucksack a ridiculous distance. I got in the Chinook with a good number of other troops, all of whom were wearing their helmets and full combat gear, meanwhile, I was just in my olive greens with my patrol cap. A voice then came over the internal speakers.

"Welcome ladies and gentlemen, I'll be your pilot for today. Please keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times and if we're getting shot at, then please remain calm. Thank you and enjoy your flight." The pilot teasingly instructed as the beast of a helicopter started, the earth-shattering roar of the engines seemingly making the ground beneath it sink as the rotors started to spin. Slowly but surely, the ground beneath started to get farther and farther as the helicopter climbed higher and higher into the sky.

The men of the 82nd Airborne seemed as enthralled by this flight as I was, this was perfectly demonstrated by the fact how about half of the guys I could see seemed to be sleeping. This was going to be a long flight, we all knew that. That's the thing about war, while Hollywood may romanticize the idea and make it constantly about action, explosions, and gunfire...that's not exactly the case. A lot of the times, time is the enemy. Hell, by the end of the war, I knew some guys who didn't even get to fire their weapon once.

A maddening idea, one that would certainly drive me insane. Not that I took any sort of pleasure out of shooting the thing, but hell, if I was going to be given one, then I might as well use it. I, in fact, find it offensive to be "left out" of fighting in a war. Especially when men you've gotten to know for months, brothers, have been sent out and are certain to die. Now I'm not saying that the battles I fought in, like Ia Drang, were more preferable than staying home...but what I am saying is that people like Buckam, Rick, Randall, and all the others in my company are people worth dying for in my eyes.

That's part of what made this journey to Phu Loi all the more longer. The waiting, the thinking. Thinking about all the horrible ways Rick could be mutilated, all the ways Dick could've gotten shot...it's the internal wars like this that drive soldiers to the point of utter madness.

I opened my eyes as I felt the helicopter descend, the only thing I could see was the interior of the Chinook which was dimly lit by the interior lamps of the helicopter. I blinked and rubbed my eyes a couple of times as I looked around more, it seemed most of the boys in the 82nd were also slowly starting to come to their senses.

"Boys, this is your captain speaking. We have landed in Phu Loi, please keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle for the rest of the ride and enjoy the rest of your evening. And as always, thank you for choosing Phu Loi Flights." The pilot teased as the helicopter landed, the blades slowly stopped spinning as the engine started to slow down before eventually coming to a stop. What I'm presuming to be an officer got up from his seat and barked commands out to his men, mainly telling them to "wake your asses up," and to form up. Some of the men let out a few grumbled as they got up as did I, the ramp then slowly opened to reveal mainly blackness.

It was night.

I couldn't see much of the base we were at, only dimly lit structures surrounding the helipad was had landed on. I could make out silhouettes in the distance, probably guard patrols and sentries who were on watch duty. We all stood there for a couple of moments before a short man with short brown hair and a chevron mustache made his way to the ramp of the helicopter, he was wearing the normal olive green BDUs without the combat gear, wearing a patrol cap instead of a helmet. The cap had the insignia of a major, behind him were two other men whom I couldn't really see because of the poor lighting.

"Alright boys! Welcome to your new home away from home! My name is Major Parker, follow me!" The major barked, the officer formed up his men as they all grabbed their rucks, I grabbed mine and fell in behind the rest of the men I had ridden with. We then started to move out of the helicopter, the mucky humidity and heat of the summer heat bearing down on us. I had made it a good couple of feet away from the helicopter when I then was stopped by the two men behind the major. I could then see their helmets, the letters "MP" was written on them. The two of them saluted me which I then saluted them back before one of them spoke up.

"Second Lieutenant Marlowe! My name is Staff Sergeant Ben Sellers! We have orders to escort you to on-base housing! Follow us!"

I nodded and the three of us started to walk away from the group, a lamp every few feet or so serving as a means to illuminate our surroundings. We only made it a few feet before we heard a boom!

The three of us stood still for a bit, I knew it wasn't an artillery explosion, it was too short and didn't sound as powerful as a usual mortar sounded.

Thunder perhaps?

There was then another one before we all heard a rapid series of popping, suddenly an alarm started to sound as there was another boom, this time closer. I was able to recognize the explosion this time, it was a grenade! We were getting attacked! But by whom?

"No rest for the wicked…" Muttered the staff sergeant before he grabbed his M16, I grabbed mine as did the other MP.

"Lead the way sarge!" I commanded, the staff sergeant nodded and started running through the cluster of buildings and tents that surrounded us, I followed behind him as did the other MP, the sound of gunfire and hand grenades getting closer. In the distance, I could hear the sound of helicopter rotors starting up. There was then another boom but louder, and from behind us.

Were we getting flanked?

I thought my fears were about to get realized before a bright white light started to form in the night sky, a stark contrast to the blackness of the night sky, a great wave of relief washing over me. It was out artillery, illuminating the battlefield. I thanked God for that as the three of us fell into a trench, the sounds of war right around us.

"Where the hell are these fuckin' dinks man?!" Cried one of the MPs, I could tell by that question that he was one of the more inexperienced ones. I peeked over the trench to be met with a distant forest, tracer rounds in great amounts coming to and from it. The flare that had been fired was behind the treeline, dimly lighting up the area as most of the light was lost in the forest. However, the light did help me make out several silhouettes in the treeline.

"Shut up and shoot, private!" Barked the staff sergeant, the private nodded and hesitantly peeked over the trench, starting to fire single shots. I was also doing so, picking out targets in the treeline and firing in single shots. All around us were tracers of various colors, painting the night sky like a Van Gogh painting. Streaks of red and green dancing from the trench to the treeline and vice-versa, like a sci-fi but with bullets instead of lasers. Mixed into that were small explosions from hand grenades, and the distant booming of our mortars pummeling the earth in front of us.

The three of us were now rapidly firing into the forest, picking out our targets and attempting to pick them out in semi-automatic. There seemed to be an unending wave of Charlie, and the night seemed to be lasting for an eternity.

"Focus your fire, private!" Shouted the sergeant as we both noticed the private was starting to miss a lot of his shots.

"I'm trying!" He cried, however, he was cut short as there was another gunshot followed by the sound of a bullet hitting something fleshy and then the dirt. The private then started to stumble backward before falling back, I was able to catch him in my arms luckily enough. However, my lack of preparedness and the weight of the private caused me to fall on my ass.

"S-Sarge…" The private whimpered, I immediately got my torch out and started looking all over him. The stomach area of his BDUs was quickly turning red.

"What the hell happened? You okay?" Shouted the staff sergeant as he quickly ducked down in the trench. He first looked down at the private before looking up at me.

"I'm going to go get a medic! Stay with him!" The sergeant ordered, I nodded and sat up, my back against one of the walls as I held the kid in my arms. I quickly ripped the combat blouse off of the kid and held it against his stomach, adding pressure.

"Keep pressure on this!" I shouted, keeping my head down as I figured that a sniper must've hit him. The gunfire and explosions didn't stop. The private took his helmet off as he weakly started pressing the blouse against his stomach.

"I-I ain't gonna make it...am I, sir?" Asked the private in a voice that was barely above a whisper as he wheezed a bit. I quickly shook my head.

"You can cut the 'sir' crap out, and you are going to make it! You got that?" I shouted, the kid nodded faintly.

"What's your name, bud?" I asked in a calm voice even though I was internally freaking out.

"M-My name's Miles, sir…" Whispered the private as he shifted a little, groaning in pain. I held him down.

"Stay still, help's going to be here soon, you hear that Miles? So stay still and take it easy." I reassured him, he very weakly nodded.

"Is that an order, sir?" Asked the private jokingly, a very faint grin forming on his face. I chuckled a bit before responding.

"Yes, a direct order too, I'll have to court-martial you if you disobey me." I joked, deciding to keep things light-hearted to maybe distract him from the situation in hand. He let out a very slight chuckle, coughing out blood afterward before wheezing again.

"Where are you from, Miles?" I asked, trying to keep him talking to keep him from passing out.

"Texas, sir…" He replied, I blinked a bit as I then chuckled.

"Shit, I'm from Texas too!" I responded, "Maybe we can both get a beer when this war's over, I'll even pay."

Miles smiled faintly.

"I'd like that sir…" He answered, seeming to forget about the fact that he had been shot. However, the private suddenly burst out into a violent coughing fit before starting to desperately gasp.

"No! No, you fight it, Miles, you hear me?! You are not going to die on me before we get our beers! You got that?! Fight it! That is an order!" I desperately cried out as he kept gasping, desperately trying to cling onto his life. He had already let go of this blouse allowing the blood to flow freely onto the ground and all over my trousers.

Damn you, Miles! Fight it!" I shouted one last time, grabbing the blouse and pushing it onto his stomach to keep pressure on the wound. Blood was flowing out of his mouth as his gasps were getting weaker. He was dying. The gunfire and explosions were starting to die down as the night sky only seemed to get blacker.

The private looked up at me, for a moment, I could see Rick's face instead of Miles's face. He was desperately trying to say something but just couldn't. I shook my head.

"No, Miles...it's alright. You'd better save a beer for me over there though." I joked, giving him a weak and fake smile, he weakly smiled back at me as I heard him take his last breath. The light then left his eyes.

The gunfire had stopped as well as the explosions, but I was angry. What the hell was taking that damn sergeant so long? I peeked over the trench only to see another man lying face down in the mud. It was the staff sergeant, lying face down in a pool of his own blood. He must've gotten shot too, either by Charlie or by just simply having getting caught in the crossfire. I still quickly hopped over the trench and crawled to the staff sergeant's body, maybe there was just a slight change that he was still alive. I slowly turned him over only to see a pale, lifeless corpse staring back at me. Going over his body with my torch, I could see that He had been shot in the neck.

I closed his eyes as well as Miles's eyes. I then just stayed at the trench, not catching a single second of sleep that night.

By the time morning came, some other military policemen had found me and escorted me to the mess hall where I ate quickly and silently. By the time I had finished, not even the helicopter pilots who were supposed to fly me had finished eating. I couldn't get the memory of that private out of my head for the entire day, he had died right there in my arms. I felt guilty, I felt terrible. Sure it's war and I already had seen death, but nothing as close...or personal as what had happened last night.

Looking back on it now, what Buckam said really rang true, sooner than I would've liked it too. In war, you really can't save everybody.


	14. The Brief

**Author's Note:** Happy Independence Day! Here are two more chapters, hopefully, you all enjoy, and again, constructive criticism is always welcome!

* * *

The Brief

Camp Enari: a shithole within a shithole. The sun was bearing down onto me like a flamethrower, engulfing me in almost unbearable heat. It was supposed to be the middle of fall also, and yet it felt like summer in the Las Vegas Strip.

As I expected, two military policemen were waiting to escort me to the somewhat large yet inconspicuous building in the center of the base. I was led to a room which had no windows, a few chairs (a little more than a dozen at most), a projector, and a projector screen. The floor was smooth, colored concrete gray while the walls were a military beige color, the ceiling being a very dark brown color. There were a couple of ceiling fans that both cooled the room so that it wasn't smoldering hot while also acting as the only source of lighting in the room.

Scanning the room, I didn't think I recognized anybody there, there were only five people (including me) present in the room anyway. That is until I did a double-take at a particular figure sitting in the second row, I almost couldn't believe it when I sat down next to the man without him noticing before speaking up.

"Well, I told you I'd survive, Dick!" I whisper-shouted with a chuckle, the poor captain almost jumped out of his seat before seeing me, the look of confusion he wore was now replaced with a smile as he hit the back of my head. Letting out a soft chuckle while also uttering a 'Fuck you,' my way, he was just as loose as I'd remembered him.

"So how was OCS?" He asked a look of both pride and curiosity plastered on his face as he leaned in towards me so that I wouldn't have to speak too loudly. The two older officers and the man in the suit were just waiting for whatever briefing to start, not paying any mind to Dick and I. The last occupant in the room wasn't really visible from where I was positioned, but I didn't think he quite cared much for what was happening either.

"Easy," I answered, obviously joking with Dick a bit. I then continued by saying, "I just made sure to act as the exact opposite of you, Dick." I finished teasingly, nudging him on the shoulder a bit which garnered a laugh out of him. Landing another f-bomb my way from my former lieutenant.

"You're lucky I don't court-martial you for insubordination and disrespect for higher-ranked officers!" He teased, nudging my shoulder as we then both straightened ourselves out as we could hear what sounded like distant approaching footsteps coming from outside the room. I, of course, returned that favor by landing a 'Shut up,' at Dick which only made him grin wider. He was wearing some stupid shit-eating grin that most wore when they knew that you were absolutely wrong about something. To outsiders, we must've looked like the worst of enemies, but in reality, we were pretty close despite the difference in rank.

The footsteps came towards the door, which was the only way in and out of the room before the door was opened. Not too fast or slow, precise and orderly as a man in a military uniform walked in. His rank was represented by a silver eagle sitting upon a silver tree branch, a colonel! This must've-I then recognized him, that stupid walk, that stupid face: Swanson. I almost wanted to ask him what the hell he was doing here, or who he even was. However, before I could, I felt and saw Dick's hand hold my left shoulder down. This caused me to remain seated as the lights in the room abruptly shut off as we could all hear the whirring of the projector.

"Gentlemen," Swanson started, "thank you for being gathered here today, I trust that the transport provided wasn't too lengthy." Swanson teased a joke which didn't get any laughs, probably not even as much as a smile from anybody within the audience. I could see Swanson visibly sigh as a black and white image of a dead woman, she had bunny ears and dead eyes. I instantly recognized her, she was the bunny girl I had killed during the attack on our basecamp on the hill. A wave of guilt overcame me, I knew that I had done the right thing, she had mortally injured an American soldier. But it was just how she looked up at me...how pathetic she looked that really just stuck with me. My thoughts of her were cut short by Swanson continuing his briefing.

"As far as we can tell, the only deformities present on this specimen are the bunny ears and parts of her body being covered in fur. As far as we have been able to tell, other than those obvious deformities, she is just like a normal girl. She's got a heart, two lungs, a kidney, even a bladder. None of the doctors can explain where these deformities could've come from on any of the corpses retrieved from the battlefields. The leading theory is that the specimens with deformities were simply born with them, which begs to ask the question of how is this possible?" Swanson finished to a dumbfounded audience, the room being engulfed in darkness to leave us alone with our thoughts as the slideshow was changing slides. Just what the hell were we dealing with?

The next picture projected was of the very structure which had spawned those mysterious attackers on Halloween night. The large elegant and majestic structure which had seemed to have been ripped right out of Ancient Greece or the Roman Empire. It almost felt like the attack had happened yesterday as I sat face-to-face with that mysterious structure.

"All evidence seems to suggest that these beings originate from within this structure, again, the reasoning of how this is possible is unknown. That is why we will be sending a squad of Army Rangers into the structure to investigate what exactly is going on." Explained Swanson, he then continued to talk, but I didn't pay much attention. I was angry, I was disappointed. Some company of Rangers didn't get attacked twice, we did, our platoon did. Sure the Rangers were elite soldiers, but why the hell did we need special forces to do what an armored reconnaissance group could? Swanson must've noticed my discontent as when I came to, he was staring right at me, now silent.

"Perhaps Second Lieutenant Marlowe here would like to add something to my briefing here." Swanson added, half mockingly and half annoyed. What had I done to garner his attention? I felt like the biggest idiot in the room, it didn't help that I seemed to be the lowest ranking officer in the entire room. I thought about just saying it was nothing, and allowing Swanson to continue as planned, but that just didn't sit right for me. A man was going to now possibly lose his sight, all because of whatever was going inside of that damn structure. So, in one of my first acts as a commissioned officer, I spoke up.

"Well, I think that my platoon should be sent in instead of the Rangers," I said bluntly and clearly. I paused a bit, waiting to be stopped, however, Swanson instead seemed to encourage me to continue to explain the reasoning of my plan which is what I did. I cleared my throat and continued by saying, "why waste time with pulling Rangers from SOCOM when my unit is right there. Not to mention my platoon has engaged these...things...two times now!" I finished, standing up at this point as I could feel people stare daggers at me. Swanson grinned a little as he responded to me.

"And how do we make sure that word of this little...incident...doesn't get leaked to the press, lieutenant? Your unit doesn't have security clearance and the war is already getting pretty unpopular back home. The last thing we need is something that will stir the hornet's nest even more." Asked Swanson, staring right into my eyes. I nodded, not breaking my gaze with his, as I explained how I'd make sure that I'd keep all the men in my platoon in check.

"I can keep my men in line, sir," I started, "we may not be the Rangers. But our unit is designated as an armored reconnaissance unit. And this mission sounds like it runs right down our alley. And if one of the men in my platoon leaks the story, who'd believe them enough to fly a reporter down here? My platoon may not be as trained as the Army Rangers, but experience and manpower can make all the difference in the field, sir!" I explained, making sure I emphasized my platoon's experience and designation as an armored reconnaissance unit to try and win over Swanson. He then finally broke eye contact with me and looked past me.

"What do you think, general?" Asked Swanson, I almost couldn't believe myself when I heard the word 'general' spill out of Swanson's mouth. I quickly turned around only to see a silhouette being dimly illuminated by the bright white light of the projector behind him, how did I not notice that a friggin general was in the room? Before I could answer my own question, the man stood up and approached me, seeming to look me over, he then looked back at Swanson.

"Why not? Kid's got ambition, hell, he might even win us this damn war if we dropped him in the middle of the DMZ!" He joked, causing Swanson to laugh. I joined in on the short laughter to win some extra points with whoever this general was after we stopped laughing, the general put his hand on my shoulder. I could tell he was looking right into my eyes, even with the lights out.

"Look, son, we're giving you an extraordinary opportunity here. Don't blow it. The last thing anyone in this room needs is for somebody to make a mistake, hooah?" Asked the general, I replied with a firm 'Hooah,' which seemed to win the general and Swanson over. Now I was really wondering why I hadn't been smart enough to just let Swanson talk as I watched the general go back to his seat.

"Well now, Lieutenant, if you would please sit down and allow me to brief you on the details." Suggested Swanson, pointing over at my seat, I quickly nodded and sat down as Swanson suggested. The slides then changed again.

One month. That's how long I had to prepare everyone in my squad. That meant training them to use and be comfortable with the chemical warfare suits that were being issued to us; ensuring that not a single word of what we were about to do would ever see the light of day; to make sure my men were ready to fight. I at least was able to find comfort in the fact that I didn't have to worry about one of those factors. It was now the end of the briefing, and Swanson was looking at me again.

"Well, Lieutenant, seeing as how you'll be the one on the ground. Why don't you choose a codeword for this operation?" Asked Swanson, somewhat leaning onto me. My mind was a total blank, I couldn't think of anything, the only word I could spit out was Enterprise. Referencing the name of the main starship in Star Trek, a TV show where humans explore strange universes and alien worlds, something I found very fitting for the situation I found myself in.

"Operation Enterprise?" Asked Swanson for clarification, I nodded, nobody seemed to get the reference I was making. Swanson nodded, saying that this operation would officially be referred to as Operation Enterprise and that I would still report to Dick who would then report what I had reported to Swanson. To put it bluntly, we were plotting an invasion, albeit one that wasn't too obvious but had all the makings of one upon closer inspection. Soon enough, the lights came back on and everyone started to clear out of the room, the young general patting me on the shoulder a couple times, I guess for reassurance as I had just put a monumental load upon my shoulders. It was now just Dick and me inside the room, by ourselves, everyone else had left to go grab a cup of coffee before they made their way back to wherever they had been deployed.

"Well, you certainly have outdone me at this point," Dick said bluntly and jokingly but wearing a serious expression on his face which made me wonder if it was a joke at all. He was right, but then again, I doubt any officer in the Army had been given a task such as the one I had just given myself in recent history. I wondered if this was how the European colonizers felt when they were being sent halfway across the world to conquer lands for their countries, but the difference being that I wasn't conquering anything. I was just performing reconnaissance and research.

"Any reason why you want to go in so badly?" Asked Dick, this snapped me down of my trance as I looked down at my captain who was still sitting down. His hands behind his head as he rested his feet on a chair in front of him, legs crossed over one another as if he were at the beach. I shot him a confused glance which prompted him to repeat himself, this time I heard him more clearly. Allowing me to properly respond.

"No reason," I answered, lying to the captain who saw right through it. He sat up, shaking his head as he chuckled a bit, motioning for me to sit back down. I silently sighed and did so, Turning the chair so that it would be directly facing him as he did the same with his chair.

"C' mon Marlowe," said my captain, "I know you better than that. When you do something, you have a reason for it. And I know this isn't about some random MP's eye, so spit it out." Ordered Dick, as if he was my lieutenant again. However, something about how he delivered that message was...reassuring. I don't quite know how to explain it, but I just felt as though I could be open and honest with him, I mean, I served under him for years at this point. So I figured I may as well be truthful.

"Live for nothing, die for something," I started, "that's a quote my grandfather told me, sir. He was a marine who fought in World War I, and well, I just always wanted to live up to that saying. Y'know? And well, I feel like this is my chance to fulfill that, to make a difference." I finished, Dick seeming to take this in, closing his eyes and nodding a bit.

"I guess everyone has their own reasons...heh, you definitely have the heart to make a change, the spirt too." He said as he put a hand on my shoulder, giving me a reassuring smile. "If you were able to convince the general too, then you've convinced me. You're a good leader, so I'm sure you'll do fine." Finished Dick, releasing my shoulder as he stood up, I stood up as well, fixing our seats so that they were facing the projector wall.

"Wanna go grab a cup of Joe?" Asked Dick, 'Joe' is a military slang term for coffee. And by coffee, I mean some sort of concoction that was mixed in some unused garbage bin out in the middle of the field. However, the good taste was traded off for an extra kick that Army coffee seemed to have. I nodded eagerly as Dick and I made our way to the hall where several officers were getting their cups of coffee. Looking back on it now, part of me wishes that I had never personally volunteered my platoon.


	15. Operation Enterprise

Operation Enterprise

"What the hell have you gotten us into, sir?" Was the first question, I remember, that was asked after I briefed everyone in the platoon. It came from Randall, the machine gunner who, much to everyone's surprise, wasn't under the influence of something this time. It was a valid question, one I asked myself, but as a leader, I had no time to question my past decisions yet.

"To be completely honest with you, Randy, I don't have much of an idea. But we have our mission, we are U.S. Army Soldiers, and it is our task to accomplish it." I explained firmly, trying to deter any further questions as I knew I wouldn't have a very good answer for any of them. My response was met with a dull 'Hooah' from my audience of soldiers, we were formed inside the chow hall which was void of any other soldiers at the moment. After no further questions such as Randy's were asked, thankfully, I dismissed everyone back to the barracks. I was on my way to my housing before being stopped by a pretty jumpy Rick who pulled me aside.

"Rick? What's wrong, bud?" I asked, a little concerned but not too much. He was always a little jumpy before operations, even peaceful ones such as chatting with a friendly village elder or something, so I, of course, expected him to get a little antsy with this mission. It was almost as soon as the last word left my mouth that Rick responded.

"Yo man, you sure you can't back us out now man?" Asked Rick, almost to the point of visibly shaking, fear and confusion filling his eyes. I shook my head, a frown forming on his face as I could see that he wanted to punch me in the face. Even though I knew he wouldn't lay a finger on me, I still prepared myself for the possibility, he was a kid after all. Then again, most of the people in my squad could be considered as 'just kids' since most of them had got drafted right after high school.

"We have our orders," I stated firmly, trying to drive in the point that orders were orders and that we were expected to perform both professionally and with personal courage. However, Rick wasn't sold on the idea as he rapidly shook his head, uttering a few curses at me. I didn't blame him, shooting gook was one thing, but this was different. Hell, the Army was having us go in there in chemical warfare suits, something we never have had to do before!

"Ain't you listenin' to yo' self man? This is some crazy talk!" He cried, almost holding me up against the wall. "You real lucky you ain't enlisted no more! Else I would've sucker-punched yo ass!" He cried again, making the motion but not actually hitting me with his punch. I sighed and shook my head, not out of disappointment as I had expected this from him, but more so from the stresses of being a commissioned officer. I'll tell you something, everyone makes the job look easier than it actually is.

"Look, Rick, why don't you take a deep breath and calm down for me?" I suggested, backing up a little from the young private. He was like a ticking time-bomb of emotions right now, and the last thing I needed was for him to explode on me. He looked me dead in the eyes for a moment, I looked into his eyes, he then closed his eyes and took a couple deep breaths. Reopening them once he did so, seeming to be a little calmer as he backed away from me slightly, coming to terms with what he just did.

"Hey look, man, I'm real sorry 'bout that man, I didn't mean it, man." Rick apologized shamefully, to be honest, this was the first time I had heard him threaten to harm me. But I wasn't angry or disappointed in him, had our roles been reversed, I probably would've said the same to him. I just approached him and patted his back a couple times to reassure him that there were no harsh feelings between us.

"Catch some rest, Rick, we've got a lot of training to get through," I suggested calmly and casually, giving him a small smile for a bit. He looked up at me and nodded, not asking any further questions as he went back to the barracks, I straightened myself up before going back to my housing.

The next few weeks were filled with a lot of early morning runs while wearing our "suit" which consisted of our normal battle attire with the addition of the M17 gas mask, a large mase we'd put over our heads that were meant to protect us from chemical agents in the field such as Agent Orange. It took a bit to get used to maneuvering and, more importantly, breathing in the damn thing; but like riding a bicycle, it just stuck with you once you got the hang of it. The mission itself, upon looking back on it, was rather quite simple in concept: go in, look around, and get out. However, of course, things weren't this simple.

I remember it was around three in the morning when I woke up to knocking on my door, nothing frantic, just three firm knocks that could've busted the door in if the person knocking had used just a tad bit more force. Groggily, I slowly sat up, wondering who the hell would be bothering me at this hour, unaware that what would happen next would ultimately change my life forever. I slowly creaked the door open to see an all too familiar face.

"Dick? What the hell are you doing here? Is something wrong?" I croaked out, still waking up, my eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. My captain shook his head, pointing over at the structure.

"Got orders from HQ, they want your unit in now. Are they ready?" Asked the captain, I was dumbfounded as we weren't supposed to go in for another week. Albeit we had completed our training, this was supposed to be part of our break period before going in. I nodded, the gravity of what was happening not settling in yet as I slipped my trousers, boots, shirt, and blouse on. Almost forgetting to put my headgear on as I made my way to the barracks, I was on my way to the barracks only to find Staff Sergeant Buckam sitting outside the structure, smoking a cigarette. He got to the position of attention and saluted me as I saluted him back, wearing a bit of a confused expression on his face.

"Get the other sergeants to help form up the platoon, we're moving out. We'll form up in front of the structure." I explained hastily, causing the cigarette to nearly fall out of Buckam's now surprised face.

"Aren't we supposed to go in there next week?" Asked Buckam in protest, stomping out his cigarette as he did so. I explained that the order had come from Captain Richards himself, which was enough to sell Buckam. Soon enough, my platoon and I were formed up outside of the structure which had been staring us down ever since we found it. I, of course, was at the front of the formation. We were wearing are normal olive green BDUs with web gear rigs which carried ammo for the M16s, M60s, M79s, and captured AK47s we brandished; the black boots we wore contrasting against the olive green of our uniform. The M17 gas masks we were all issued fit snugly over my head, the mask connected to a respirator attached to my hip, our standard issue combat helmets fitting over both the mask and my head.

We performed a comms check, afterward just waiting for our captain to give us clearance to enter the ominous structure, which he did after a few minutes. He gave us 'good luck,' as the first of us entered, we were in two-column formations, which meant that the platoon was split into two equal columns, each taking a side of the structure. My column (which I was at the front of) had the left side, hugging the leftmost wall while Buckam (who was at the front of the second column) took the right side.

"God, I can't see shit in here. Y'all still there LT?" Asked Buckam over the walkie-talkie. I looked around, and Buckam was right, the inside of this place was pitch black. I couldn't even see the guy right behind me, and our footsteps seemed to echo around the place. But other than our footsteps, there was silence. That silence, however, was interrupted by what talking, I quickly grabbed my walkie-talkie and told all units to halt and get down.

"What's happenin' over there LT?!" Asked Buckam over the walkie-talkie again, his tone urgent and obviously concerned. The talking, in the meanwhile, carried on. It felt like it was all around us, the talking, it didn't take me long to recognize who it was: it was Franklin Roosevelt declaring war against the Imperial Japanese Empire. I spun around, to face the radioman, I then took my flashlight out and shined it on him. He had taken the radio off of his back and was fiddling with the controls urgently and hastily, the talking originating from his radio.

"What's the matter with your radio?!" I shouted, the radioman looked up at me and shook his head. He looked like a deer in headlights, "I-I don't know sir! It just randomly started doing this!" Cried the corporal, Rick was behind him, looking at the radio over the radioman's shoulder. I explained to Buckam that it was just a radio malfunction as I then crept over to the radio.

"How long is it going to take you to fix it?" I asked urgently, peeking over my shoulder to make sure nothing was creeping up from behind as I kept the flashlight beam over the radio. The radioman shook his head as he urgently and hastily messed with more of the radio's controls before looking up at me. The look he gave me was one of confusion.

"I don't think I can do anything, sir!" Cried the radioman again, slowly getting up and putting the radio back on his back. "There's gotta be something weird with this place, the radio hasn't done this shit before!" He explained as white noise emanated from the radio before another voice came over it. This voice was different, it was deeper and sharper, he was talking about some guy named "Osama Bin Laden," or something like that. I just shook my head, getting back up and giving the order to move forward, the radioman's radio crackling again before playing a mean guitar-riff which then led into a rock song.

"Yo is that Jimi Hendrix man?" Asked a voice from the dark, "Hell yeah it is!" Cried another voice in response. However, a few minutes later, the radio to change what it was broadcasting again to someone with a British accent talking about John Lennon...more specifically his assassination. But John Lennon was alive the last I checked, he couldn't be dead! Who'd even want to kill a guy like Lennon anyways? I probably heard the message wrong or something as it was both pretty echoey and I was wearing a gas mask which muffled my hearing and voice.

The radio then switched back to Jimi Hendrix as there was some more confused chatter amongst my column. Although I couldn't really hear Buckam's column, I assume they were just as confused as we were. Finally, someone asked the question that was most likely on everybody's mind: why is there light at the end of this place?

It started out as a small blip, but as we kept walking, the light started to grow bigger. It was also starting to form an image, one I couldn't really see yet. None of us had any idea where this could be coming from, as far as we knew, there were no openings at the rear of the structure. There was no way light should've been able to enter, and even if there was a crack, we left hours before sunrise, and the light looked too...natural...to be coming from anything man-made. I didn't answer the soldier's question as I didn't have an answer myself.

The light was getting larger, we were getting closer to it, and it was now forming an image, very faint yet somewhat recognizable. It was green, all green, it looked like it stretched on to infinity. It looked nothing like Vietnam, it looked more like the countryside of Europe of America, not the jungles and rice paddies of Vietnam. What the hell was this place? Where were we going to? Why hadn't we found the wall yet?

My thoughts were cut short by what felt like a breeze of wind, it was cool and brushed against me. "Woah, did anybody else feel that?" Asked a voice within the column, the voice that responded voiced my questions of asking what exactly this place was. Before I even realized what was happening, I was blinded by the light, causing me to close my eyes and put my hands out in front of me to help shield my face. When I reopened my eyes, I saw that we were now standing on top of a hill which was overlooking a large, lush, and fertile field.

The hill itself was flat, with large mountains a few miles behind us. The slope was a gradual decline, meaning that it wasn't too steep, you could probably drive a car up the hill, there were some exposed rocks which protruded from the ground further down the hill. The land was covered in bright green grass, the hill itself was surrounded by a sprawling forest with the exception being a couple of paths, dirt paths, which led down past the forest. That meant that civilization was nearby.

I had eyes on everybody in my platoon now as we all had emerged from the large structure which was at our rear, everybody was looking around. Probably just as puzzled as I was, but one thing was certain: we weren't in Vietnam anymore.

"I swear I'm not high this time, what the hell is this?" Asked the confused voice of Randall, the first I had ever heard him be so puzzled. The sun was still out wherever we were, the inside of the structure remaining pitch black.

"I don't know man, but this is some weird shit. And I know I ain't dreamin' either! Already tried pinchin' myself!" Cried Mitch in response, the whole place was dead silent, it was like walking through a forest just before getting attacked by a tiger or something. It was really eerie. In the distance, I saw someone remove his gas mask before I could stop him, however, as opposed to him sprouting some sort of deformity or dying, he was just fine.

"The air's fine guys!" He shouted after a few minutes, this was enough to convince several other guys to remove their gas masks, soon enough, I reluctantly removed mine. I welcomed the refreshing cool breeze of wind as it brushed against my face. However, I soon regained my composure. This had to be the strangest thing to happen to me in my entire life, but I had a duty to fulfill, and as weird as this was, I couldn't let that hinder my performance. I turned to my radioman.

"Let me see the radio, corporal," I ordered, the corporal who was crouched turned to let me use the radio. The radio had long since stopped playing Jimi Hendrix. I picked up the hand unit and pressed it against my ear. The confused chatter of the soldiers under my command seeming to drown out.

"OVERLORD, this is VOYAGER ACTUAL, come in. Over." I said, however, there was no response, just static. I gave it a few seconds before trying again, only to be met with the same result. The radioman, seeing the issue, took the radio off and started to mess with the settings again; changing the radio's frequency and surfing through the radio's channels. Telling me when to try using the radio, however, our efforts were in vain as nothing seemed to work. The corporal figured that we somehow must've landed ourselves out of range of anything.

Next, I tried the walkie-talkie I had, these still worked thankfully as I was able to reach Buckam. "Where the hell are we LT?" Asked Buckam, to which I replied with a short and simple "I don't know." I then gave the order to secure a perimeter and dig in, explaining that the radio wasn't working. I was already bracing myself for the contingency plan that had been created during the brief: a battalion of Army Rangers were stationed at the nearest airbase, they would be flown in by helicopter if we gave the signal. Albeit, I don't think any one of us could've expected to find what seemed to be an entirely new friggin' world through that structure.

Before I could even get my thoughts together, I heard Buckam's voice through the walkie-talkie. He was calling me over to him, telling me to keep my head down. Staying crouched, I made my way over to him, it didn't take long for me to see what he wanted me to see through the binoculars. Near the base of the hill, behind some rocks, we could all see something purple behind it. It looked like a fabric...like a tent fabric. Beyond that were several tent-like structures, all of them with purple fabric, there was a large bonfire which had been put out sitting in the center of the tents. Then I saw them.

Tiny men wearing metallic armor, swords sheathed. They must not have seen or heard us come through as none of them even bothered to look up at the hill. Thankfully, there seemed to only be one encampment so far as I scanned the area surrounding it. There were definitely at least over a thousand or so people down there, judging by both the amount and the sizes of the tents that were found within the encampment, though it was hard to tell for sure.

"What do we do LT?" Asked Buckam, continuing to watch the enemy through his pair of binoculars. Everybody seemed to have their eyes trained on the camp, hell, even I was keeping my eyes glued to it. Buckam had to ask the same question again just to get me to snap back to reality.

"What do we do?" He asked again, a little more stern and firmly than last time. I considered getting everyone back through the structure but realized that if we did that, that could give them time to set up an ambush. And then what? We'd be bottlenecked for sure, a damn slaughter all because we had fallen back. It was just something I could not think about.

"We stand our ground," I said bluntly and casually, it was almost more like a suggestion than an actual command. Buckam blinked a couple times, he didn't believe that I had said what I just said. Honestly, if the roles were swapped, I wouldn't have believed it either.

"Sir?" He asked in a surprised tone, probably figuring that I would've given the order to retreat fully. I repeated my command which was met by him blinking a couple times.

"Whatever you say, boss." He replied, dishing out the order to the rest of the platoon, meanwhile I looked for Rick who was only a few feet away from Buckam. He was also watching the encampment with Randall, I quickly got down next to Rick and bumped him on the shoulder which made him almost jump.

"Don't fuckin' do that man!" He nearly screamed, Randall had his machine gun trained down the hill. I apologized as I quickly told him to take all his combat gear off. It took some convincing, but he soon did that as quickly as he could.

"What's your plan, sir?" Asked Randall, "Heard you're ordering us to hold the line." He explained, his tone was neutral.

"That's right, if we all fall back, we could end up leading our guys into an ambush," I whispered to him, most of the men around us were digging trenches to better fortify themselves. Randall then pulled out a joint that was hiding in his right breast pocket, lighting it as he then started to smoke it.

"I've had trips that make more sense than this, man." He teased as Rick bumped me on my shoulder. "You had me take my shit off, what do you need, sir?" Asked Rick, already a little jumpy. Poor kid, part of me feels he should've never joined the Army, can't imagine how his home life must've been once he returned home.

"Grab the radioman and get us some reinforcements! Tell them to get us some fuckin' artillery and armor!" I whisper-shouted, Rick taking it all in and nodding as I did so. However, before he could get up, I grabbed his shirt and brought him close to me. "And tell them to get 'em here quick!" I finished, Rick rapidly nodding as he went to go get the radioman. I watched as the radioman took his gear off, including his radio, leaving him in only his olive green blouse, trousers, and black combat boots.

"You sure we'll be able to hold?" Asked Randall, neither Randall and I were paying much attention to the situation down the hill at this point as we figured that nobody within the encampment had noticed our presence yet. Before I could respond, I could hear what sounded like a thousand screams, not of pain, but of rage.

"Oh shit! They're coming!" Screamed Mitch off in the distance, I quickly turned my head to see what seemed like an endless stream of glistening metal armor and swords making it impossible to distinguish a single face from the crowd without binoculars. Most of them looked like humans, though some had those weird features such as animal body parts or weird markings on their bodies. The others were these...monsters...big green things that dwarfed their comrades, holding large clubs which seemed to be the size of a person.

"What're your orders, boss?" Asked Buckam through my walkie-talkie, I quickly threw down the binoculars I was using and pulled my walkie-talkie out. Randall and many others around us were desperately digging to make or finish making their makeshift trenches.

"Uhm, right, engage the enemy only when they are within range! When in range, I want our men to fire in bursts! Focus fire on the big guys, the M60s and Thumpers can handle the crowd!" I ordered, Buckam responded with a 'roger that,' or something similar to that as I started to help Randall dig his trench. Soon enough we finished, the blob of metal marching towards us, still out of range as they were at the bottom of the hill.

"You'd better hope that Rick and the fuckin' radioman get some arty and armor in here quick!" Exclaimed Randall as he trained his machine gun towards the crowd. They were all chanting something that I couldn't understand, but probably some battle cry or something. For now, they were just marching in a large formation, I could hear the distant gunfire coming from our platoon's marksmen taking shots at those within the crowd. Surprisingly, more shots than I had expected found their way to a warrior as I watched the crowd advance through my binoculars.

Eventually, the army got close enough for us to start firing, within minutes we had taken out one of the giants, but that only seemed to enrage the Army as what I assumed to be one of their commanders (who was on horseback) got to the front of the formation and started screaming something. He was quickly taken out by one of the platoon's marksmen which just threw the crowd into a frenzy, they all unsheathed their swords and started running. They were still a good few hundred yards away from us, but I could tell that even exhaustion wouldn't stop them now.

That's when all hell broke loose.

I was suddenly deafened by the explosion of gunfire that surrounded me, the biggest aggressor being Randall's M60 which was only a few feet away from me, spewing hot lead down the range at the crowd at an unbelievable rate. I quickly grabbed my M16, firing bursts at another one of the giants which soon fell, I figured that it must've squashed a few of its own comrades as it did so as all the troops were really close together. Soon, I started directing my fire at the now charging crowd of men in shining armor as did the rest of my platoon.

I watched as body after body fell to the ground, yet their comrades would just trample right over them and continue to charge at us. Swords were drawn, still screaming as loud as they could, it was easy to tell that there were hundreds if not thousands of them running towards us. I then heard a deafening click next to me.

"I'm dry!" Shouted Randall, "Help me reload this thing goddamn it!" He cried, I quickly got to work, helping Randall get the machine gun up and running. They were getting closer. I could now discern individual screams, all the thousands of them. My ears were ringing from the constant machine-gun fire that was coming from next to me, but that took a backseat for now as I was more focused on the clear and very present threat right in front of me.

It was like an unending wave of people, you could watch ten go down as ten more would just go over them and replace the hole you had just made in their formation. However, they all then suddenly stopped about 300-400 yards in front of us, the guys up front crouching down behind their shields which our bullets easily penetrated. I could tell that our grenadiers had run out of ammo for their grenade launchers at this point as there were fewer explosions than there were earlier.

What the hell are they doing? I asked myself, however, the sky was then filled with lines,...and they were coming down on us! They were arrows! I screamed for everybody to take cover as hundreds of arrows plunged into our position, the arrows either missed me or hit my helmet doing no damage. I glanced over to Randall who seemed to be fine, however, I could hear the screams of those who weren't as lucky as we were. Perhaps some poor soul who'd looked up. This momentary cease of fire must've given that army time to prepare for another push as I then heard those damned yells as I looked up, seeing the crowd running at us again.

"These fuckers don't give up!" Yelled Randall as he started to pour automatic fire into the crowd of warriors again, the situation seeming more desperate than ever. I don't know how long the firefight had been so far, but it felt like hours. However, I soon started to hear something very distant, a rumbling. I couldn't tell where it was coming from, but it sounded far off, not a problem for now. However, soon, the rumbling became louder, it was getting closer.

"Do you hear that?" I asked Randall, nearly tearing my poor vocal cords apart. The army was 200-300 yards from us at this point.

"What?!" Asked Randall, the machine gun probably deafening him while he fired it. I assumed that if he couldn't hear me, there was no way he could hear the rumbling. I had almost assumed that it was some trick the charging army in front of us had up their sleeve until I realized it was coming from behind us. I looked behind us, into the structure, only to see distant lights...headlights! Armor! The armor had arrived!

It felt like years before those headlights finally shut off only for an M113 APC with a flamethrower turret along with a fresh squad of troops came dashing out of the darkness. The APCs stopped a few feet behind us as they let the soldiers riding them get out and reinforce the shabby perimeter my platoon had formed. Three other M113s had made it through within seconds of the first one passing through, the others armed with M2 Browning machine guns. Out of two of the APCs climbed out what I instantly recognized as a mortar team due to the equipment they were carrying in addition to Captain Richards with Rick and the radioman.

The army in front of us stopped charging once they saw the M113s, the first one firing its flamethrower towards the crowd. We had also stopped firing as we were just watching what the army would do next, our mortar teams hastily setting up their mortars as quickly as possible. A lot of the soldiers who had just arrived were looking around in shock and awe as my platoon and I were not too long ago, including Dick. A couple of brave archers from charlie's side took some shots at the APCs, which had virtually no effect on the vehicle's metal armor. It was as if they were scared of what the APCs would do next, but the crews of those vehicles answered that question quickly with the roar of gunfire that came from the M2 Browning machine gun and M134 minigun.

While Randall's M60 and our guns did a good job of making their bodies drop, these heavier weapons literally tore their bodies to pieces. All it took for the army in front of us to retreat was for the flamethrower turret on the M113 to start laying down on them. The screams, these weren't battle cries anymore, these were of terror and of death as the force in front of us started to fall back. For the first time, we saw those warriors run away from us, and it felt pretty damn good.

"You better run!" Cried a voice within our ranks, the M113s didn't let up, driving past us as they continued to pursue our attackers. My platoon and I in addition to the reinforcements we had received got up and started to advance with the APCs down the hill, slowly as we poured it into the retreating army. The mortars behind us firing way off into the distance at first, mainly hitting their encampment before the mortar shells started to hit bodies. We stopped a few meters down from our original position, firing all our M16s, M60s, Thompsons, Greaseguns, AK47s, and just about every other Vietnam War era weapon into the retreating army. This was a true massacre, not the first encounter, this was a real massacre.

You could see body parts, or in some cases, full fuckin' people get thrown into the air by the mortar shells. They had gotten out of range of the flamethrower, but that didn't stop the operator of the weapon as he kept firing bursts, this seemed to really scare the retreating army. They must've thought the APCs were monsters or something. The once seemingly unending wave of people was now starting to diminish, there were soon only hundreds. A mere fraction of the thousands which had originally charged at us, the gunfire had long since died down as the mortars were finishing up the fight.

We all held our breath as we watched the last bunch of retreating soldiers get blown to bits by a mortar shell. Once the smoke cleared, the once lush green landscape was now littered with thousands of corpses and full of craters. It was almost unrecognizable. There was a collective silence for a few moments, with exception to the rumbling of the M113s engines, before we all started to cheer. We all held our weapons up, some of us firing into the air.

"Take that, you motherfuckers!" Screamed Bootleg Joe as he then fired a burst of gunfire into the air, we all cheered, even me as I worked my way back up to Dick, Rick, and the radioman. As horrific as the sight was, there was no denying that we had just massacred what could've been an entire battalion of Charlies in their own turf! No snipers in the trees, no landmines, no guerilla tactics; this was an absolute victory, something we hadn't felt in the longest time.

"Rick really wasn't kidding when he said you all stirred the hornet's nest," Dick said with a chuckle as he looked around. "This place really is unbelievable, christ...I can't even begin-" he started, I interrupted by telling him not to bother to make sense of all this. It was pointless, there was no sense to this. There was no logic or reason, just war.  
"They'll be back, in bigger numbers too!" I nearly screamed as the constant machine-gun fire and booming of artillery had really done a number on my hearing, however, slowly and eventually, the ringing in my ears had faded. Dick nodded, explaining that he had requested for additional reinforcements to be sent in.

In the background, I could see a couple of the soldiers who were under my command being tended by medics, one poor guy had an arrow get lodged right into his shoulder. Out of courtesy, I excused myself and went over to him. The APCs and the rest of the soldiers falling back to our original positions. Once next to him, I crouched down next to the soldier.

"You alright?" I asked, pointing at the arrow protruding from his now bandaged up shoulder. He smiled and laughed a bit, groaning in pain afterward.

"Don't worry 'bout me, sir! Just a flesh wound!" He joked I gave him a laugh and light patted his back. Wishing him to get well soon as I went back over to Dick who was meddling with the radioman's radio.

"Don't bother, sir, only the walkies work out here," I explained, Dick nodded, letting the radioman reassemble his radioman as he stared out onto the vast battlefield. The sun just starting to set.

"Something tells me we're going to be here for a bit of a while, Marlowe." Said Dick as he got out a cigarette, offering me one which I eagerly took. Firefights are always exhausting, especially ones that drag out. Sitting in a trench, firing and reloading your weapon while the sun beats down on you can really wear a person down after a while. He lit my cigarette and then his as he started to smoke it.

"Hopefully not too long," I responded as I watched the soldiers under our command start to make foxholes and add on to the existing trenches which were scattered around the hill. I could hear the distant rumbling of motor engines coming from deep within the structure. More reinforcements were coming. Soon, it would turn into total war.


	16. Midnight Baseball

**Author's Note:** It's been too long, I know it's been a while since I've last updated this story, that's on me. I've been extremely busy, however, with that said. I just want to thank everybody that has continued to support this story, so as a special gift, here are six new chapters for you all! I love you all and I hope that you all continue to enjoy my story, so with that said, please enjoy! And remember, please do tell me if there's anything I can do to improve!

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Midnight Baseball

The only thing I know I could never replicate myself is the awesome power of heavy artillery, it's a beautifully destructive thing. Distant splashes of bright orange light against the black of the scorched earth below, or could I even call this earth? We had no clear idea where we were yet, we were just on some hill for all we were concerned. We had no maps yet, the OH-6 helicopters were still being brought over, so there was no visual description of anything beyond our hilltop.

All night long, artillery rained down onto the seemingly endless forest at the end of the hill. Whenever the guns stopped, an arrow would come shooting out from what we thought were the trees themselves. A feeble attempt to hit us as the arrows usually were hundreds of meters away from our position.

"Just another lovely day to be infantry, right, sir?" Buckam asked jokingly as he handed me a small, metal cup full of coffee. Army coffee, meaning that it'd keep me up longer by sacrificing its taste, however, I needed the extra boost. Graciously, I accepted Buckam's gift as we looked over our sandbags and out into the forest.

"We're not hitting anything, are we?" I asked as I watched trees get blown apart, dirt thrown into the sky only to fall back down, and the eventual arrow to come gliding out of the forest. I then looked over to see Buckam chuckling before shaking his head.

"Beats me, sir, I'd go have a talk with them artillery cowboys if I were you," my platoon sergeant answered, taking a large gulp of coffee as he did so. The alcohol had yet to be brought in, much to the dismay of some of the younger soldiers that were part of the initial invasion force.

"Keep my coffee warm then, would you?" I asked as I flattened out one of the sandbags in front of us before balancing my cup of coffee onto it. Buckam just nodded as he gestured behind him, signaling where the artillery positions had been set up. Even though it had only been hours since we had invaded, we already made an expansive perimeter around the top of the hill. There was no better position, the top of the hill was flat, sitting on top a very steep incline which seemed almost impossible to climb. The only thing that led down the hill was a winding, barren dirt path which nobody was using yet. It seemed to lead into the forest, probably past it to somewhere… _but to where then?_

I could tell I was getting close to the artillery guns as, despite the darkness, the loud booms and bright flashes of color helped make it apparent. The explosions coming from the massive guns overshadowed the constant hums coming from the various military vehicles which were transporting troops, equipment, supplies, and other necessities to create a forward outpost base. The night was brighter than any night in Vietnam ever was, I eventually drew close enough to the point where I could see the outlines of the artillery crewman and the pieces of artillery themselves contrasting against the night sky.

"Think that gave 'em a run for their money?!" Cried out one of the soldiers manning the massive piece of hardware. I was close enough to the point where I could discern the voices of the soldiers at the position.

"You probably didn't even hit shit, you dope!" Retorted one of the other soldiers as he came around the artillery gun. He paused for a couple of moments before ordering his soldiers to resume as he made his way over to me. Automatically, when he came close enough, he snapped to attention and saluted me.

"Noise complaint, sir?" The NCO asked jokingly as we were then interrupted by the boom of the artillery cannon, a howitzer, and then the quieter distant explosion once the shell hit the ground below. It was like some sort of twisted version of New Year's or something, all the fireworks replaced by the artillery shells, nobody was wasting their bullets at this point.

"What are you all firing at?!" I cried out while the artillery crew reloaded the howitzer. We were then interrupted by the sound of the other howitzers firing off their rounds, the guns were firing in such a way that each shell landed in a horizontal line just after one another, creating a wall of explosions. A wall of fire.

"We got some _fucker_ in the forest lobbin' arrows at us, sir! Tryin' to smoke 'em out! And we don't got any Willie-Pete, Napalm, or Chlorine, only HE, sir!" The NCO shouted as I could hear the sound of the HE shell sliding against the howitzer as it was being loaded before hearing it being locked into place. Then the deafening orchestra of howitzer cannons as one by one, each cannon fired their round into the forest.

"Why use so many artillery canons then?! Just one could do the job!" I shouted over the distant roar of exploding shells in the distance. The NCO just shook his head.

"Take it up with our el-tee! He's the one that ordered that we fire all the guns!" The NCO responded, somehow managing to make his voice heard over the explosion of the howitzer which was no more than a few feet from us at this point. He held his arm straight out, pointing behind him, at a tent between two of the howitzers. I thanked him and released him back to his men as I made my way to the tent which had a small, dim, orange light coming from within the open tent. Inside was a man with a lit cigarette in his mouth, the source of the light.

"Are you the commander of these artillery crews?!" I asked in a shout, the smoker nodded, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and tossing it onto the ground as he then stomped it out. More explosions before we could hear each other, I still flinched while the smoker didn't, he must've become used to the sound at this point.

"What are you firing at? Why are you using all your guns?" I asked him as the howitzers started to reload their shells. However, this time, none of the guns fired, instead, the command of "hold fire" was shouted by the team leaders of each field artillery team. The platoon leader was clutching a starlight scope in his right hand which he then held out to me, he wanted to show me something I assumed.

"I think we finally got 'em! Zipped 'em!" Cried one of the soldiers from earlier, a couple of others cheering upon hearing this. The platoon leader pointed out towards the forest, I looked through the starlight scope and out towards the forest. The world was now a greenish haze as I scanned the tree line below, most of it was now just scorched earth as most of what used to be a forest was now pummeled. All seemed normal until I saw a small object come flying out from somewhere deep within the tree line, and into our position.

"These motherfucker's ain't given up easy. Load the guns! Fire on my command!" Shouted the platoon leader as the command was repeated by the team leaders of each howitzer. He didn't need to say anything to me for me to get the point as I made my way back to Buckam. The newly-promoted sergeant first class was still looking down at the destruction we were bringing upon the forest by the time I got back there, my cup of coffee still sitting on top of the flattened sandbag.

"Well?" Asked Buckam rhetorically as the distant boom of howitzers firing followed soon after his question amidst the rumbling of truck engines. Then the explosions, a wall of flame and debris blackening the green grass below.

"It's going to take more than one gun to kill whoever's still in there." Was all I could think of as a response to his question. It baffled me how there was still an archer operating within that hellhole, any sane gunman would have long since abandoned that position, or at least not have made their presence so blatantly obvious. Buckam just nodded, being a seasoned veteran of combat himself, he must have known that whoever was operating within that forest had to have had some real guts, that or a really small brain. _Perhaps both._

My thoughts were then interrupted by the crackle of gunfire coming from our left, not even a gradual emergence, it all just happened within a minute. An explosion of machinegun and carbine fire.

"They got an entire army here! The got an entire friggin' army flankin' us!" Cried Mitch who was already on the scene by the time Buckam and I got there. Looking down, all I could see was an ocean of silhouettes painted against the night sky, the flashes of gunfire not offering much in terms of visibility. I could hear the aggressive rumbling of engines in the distance, probably an M113 or a jeep making its way down to support the firefight. Like the last firefight, nobody was using the semi-automatic mode on their weapons, everybody was pouring short and controlled bursts into the sea of endless figures.

"How the _fuck_ did they get so close without us noticing, sir?!" Cried Rick who landed right next to me. Some had taken to lobbing grenades down into the crowd, the short bursts of light caused by the explosions allowed us all to see the various armored troops attempting to scale the side of the mountain either by hand or with makeshift ladders which were leaned up against the side of the hill.

"I don't know but keep firing!" I ordered, nobody needed to repeat that command as everybody kept unloading into the sea of troops. We could all hear the screams, all of them as in conjunction with the sound of our rounds penetrating the metallic armor these troops were wearing. The rattle of metal as its corpses, people, crashed into each other in what used to be a formation. Soon enough, the sea of silhouettes started getting smaller and smaller, it was moving away from us. They were retreating!

"No!" I shouted as I suddenly got up. I don't know what came over me, it was a rush of adrenaline, it was like a high as I then gave the order for all my troops to fix their bayonets onto their guns. I was going to bring the fight to them like they had brought the fight to us. I could tell everybody else had the same mindset as I could make out dozens of soldiers fixing their bayonets onto their M-16s.

"Leavin' me outta the party?" Asked Randall jokingly who was in the prone position with his M60 trained down the hill. I looked down at him and laughed a little as I then gave a one-word order: _charge!_ Leading the dozens upon dozens of troops, we slid down the side of the hill, hopping over corpses as we started to gain upon the fleeing force. It was like the feeling you get when you watch an awesome scene in an action movie, in fact, this was just like an action movie. Except with one unexpected twist.

I, still at the front of the formation, was just about to jab one of the soldiers with my bayonet before I heard a distant explosion…then another, and then another! It took me a second to realize that it was the artillery, the howitzers! Nobody knew we had charged down here, and without radios, there was no way for us to relay this information to the field artillery officer!

"Get down and take cover!" I screamed at the top of my lungs as I threw myself down onto the ground, onto the dirt which had become a mud at this point because of all the blood. I heard a deafening whistling, looking back, it was probably the most terrifying sound I have ever heard. Suddenly a loud boom before everything went black.

The next morning, I woke up on a gurney with bandages wrapped around my head. At first, I thought that perhaps everything that had just happened was some sort of fever dream, that perhaps I had been injured back in Vietnam and this whole fantasy about finding a magical gate was nothing more than my imagination…that was until I saw the large mountains in the distance. I noticed what seemed to be a medic walk past, I quickly tugged on his blouse which caused him to turn around.

"We don't got no more mornin' after pills, can't help ya if you're still sore. Go see someone else if ya got crabs or somethin' like that." Joked the medic, a sly and utterly stupid smirk plastered across his face. Just the type of guy you'd expect to be a doctor, a dry sense of humor and that look on their face that just told you that they'd make more money in one day than you would in one year.

"What happened?" I asked cautiously as I slowly sat myself up, the world spinning for a couple of moments before everything went normal again. The medic chuckled, asking me if I was pulling his leg to which I assured him I was not. His expression faltered.

"You musta been one of them boys that was chargin' down that hill, right?" The medic asked as he knelt by my gurney, a look of shock on his face. I must have made a face as well because before I could even respond to his question, he chuckled.

"Y'all are some of the luckiest boys I know! Not one KIA or serious injury! Hell, you gave them Charlies a run for their money!" He laughed as he then patted my back a couple of times before walking around me, seeming to be performing some sort of evaluation on me. It took him a couple of minutes, but he seemed satisfied when he backed away from me.

"You're all good, son, go get your stuff at the front now. Oh, and try not to hit your head." Ordered the doctor, I received a fresh pair of BDUs, an assault pack that had all my personal belongings inside of it, my helmet, and my combat web gear. I would have to go to the armory to retrieve my M-16 and M-1911. I checked my watch to see that it was 1354 hours! _How long was I out for?_ It didn't matter, I had to go find Buckam to find out if anybody else was a casualty like I was.

It didn't take long, Buckam, and most of my platoon were standing over the sight of the battle. There were so many body parts, pieces of armor, and blood that littered the ground to the point where you couldn't even see the grass for a good mile or so. The place reeked of death, causing one or two soldiers to gag a little. There were no more weapons meaning that we must've already sent people out to perform a Battle Damage Assessment (BDA) while I was out, and I had a feeling I knew who was assigned.

"How many?" I asked Buckam as I stood next to him, to his left. He looked at me, and then down at the battlefield, shaking his head.

"Took a while, almost two or three hours in the morning, but we all counted their deaths were somewhere in the thousands…tens of thousands even. The current theory is that these are the survivors of the first battle, they got reinforced and came back to try and avenge their buddies." Grumbled Buckam as he continued looking out at the field if you could even call what was out there a _field_ at this point. Most of what was not covered in remains and metal armor were either soaked with blood or scorched from artillery which left massive craters all over the place.

"Talk 'bout a dedicated buncha bastards," commented Bootleg Joe as he popped some dip into his mouth. "These guys already makin' the gooks look like some buncha fuckin' pansy-asses," replied Bob as he gagged a little more, probably because of the stench which threatened to overpower the smell of gunpowder which littered the entire hill from two days' worth of battle. I just silently uttered a prayer, something I hadn't done for a while. I knew only God would be able to help us fight an enemy which was as determined these few thousand soldiers were.


	17. The Girl in White

The Girl in White

"What the _hell_ were you thinking, Marlowe?! Charging down a damn hill in the middle of the night?! You almost got your whole platoon wiped out!" Screamed an angry Captain Bob Richards as he paced across the room to an ashtray, extinguishing his cigarette. It had been a few days after the fight, and now it seemed the higher-ups wanted answers.

"To be fair, sir, nobody could have known that those damn cowboys would start firing their cannons, sir!" Answered Buckam, the only other person in the makeshift office other than me, before I could even respond. The captain grumbled something under his breath as he just shook his head in frustration.

"Noted. What do you have to add, Marlowe?" Asked a now calmer yet still upset Richards as he sat down at his desk. Looking up at us, especially me.

"Sir, if those hostiles made it back to their commander, they could have exposed our position, sir! There's no telling how many reinforcements they would come back with, especially now that they know we're more vulnerable at night up here, sir!" I explained, I decided to leave the adrenaline rush the fight gave me out of my answer as I doubted that would have helped my case. To be honest, the reason I gave the captain was something I had just thought up of, I wasn't thinking about that last night. The thing about action movies is that a lot of them really glorify firefights, they usually last for about five minutes or less, in that time, you can't think. If you stop to think, then you're dead.

"You could have waited for the artillery cannons, _lieutenant_." Snapped the captain almost instantly. I couldn't blame Richards, he was probably getting the same treatment from the higher-ups because of what I did. That's the thing about the military, if somebody screws up, the person in charge of them is punished. As a leader, you're expected to have everybody under your command squared away, which means there's no room for mistakes.

"Permission to speak, sir?" Buckam asked, looking down at the stressed captain. He was so stressed to the point where I could visibly see his hair turning grey. Richards looked Buckam in the eye for a couple of moments before getting him up and permitting him to speak.

"Sir, Lieutenant Marlowe raises a good point. We cannot let specific information about our position, namely our fortifications, be compromised, sir. And we simply could not wait for the artillery cannons to come on-line, sir!" Buckam explained sternly and formally, speaking like a true soldier. The captain seemed to contemplate something before ordering us to follow him out to the perimeter, with him he took a pack of cigarettes and his pair of binoculars.

"Sir, with all due respect, why are we out here?" I asked as we all climbed up a ladder, into a guard tower which was being manned by a lone soldier who was armed with an M-16. The corporal immediately saluted the captain as he saluted him back before Richards handed me the binoculars and addressed the corporal.

"Has _she_ showed up yet?" Asked the captain simply, checking his watch. Even the timing here was hard to get right, it turns out that this place had about a one-hour delay when compared to Vietnam. So instead of waking up around 1354 hours yesterday like I initially thought, I instead woke up around 1454 hours. Both Buckam and I were confused, but Richards simply pointed out to a small clearing towards the front of the forest, close to the scene of last night's battle. I looked through the binoculars only to just see a forest and nothing more, Richards told me to simply "wait for it" which I did, but after a couple of minutes, I finally spoke up.

"With all due respect sir, what am I looking for? Sir?" I asked as I scanned the area with the binoculars, only seeing a forest, scorched earth, and craters. Even seeing a couple of animals here and there.

"Just wait, Marlowe, you'll see it just about…now!" Richards almost shouted in my ear. Lighting another cigarette that I could smell, thanks to the breeze carrying the scent of the cigarette towards the back of my head. However, I wasn't bothered by this, more so bothered by the woman on horseback who rode up to the clearing. It seemed as though she was overlooking the carnage. She had red hair and matching red eyes, pale snow-white skin, and was wearing a brilliant white armor with what seemed to be either bronze or gold engravings. She didn't seem to be wearing any make-up as well, the horse she rode on wearing armor which was the same color and design as hers.

"What do you see, sir? What is that white thing out there?" Asked Buckam as he probably only could see a white blur without binoculars. And keep in mind that none of our M-16s had scopes on them, and it was too bright out to use the starlight scopes.

"I-It's a girl! A girl on horseback!" I exclaimed as she looked up, seeming to take notice of me as she quickly rode her horseback into the forest. I could hear sounds of confusion coming from Buckam, which I wouldn't blame him as I was also confused. I put down the binoculars and handed them back to Richards.

"Corporal, give us the tower." Ordered Richards, the private let out a "yes sir" as he quickly climbed back down the tower. Linking up with his squad probably, leaving the three of us in the army green watchtower.

"Sir, how did you know she was going to be there? Who was she?" I immediately asked. Richards simply sighed as he breathed out a puff of cigarette smoke.

"She's probably a scout, I knew that because she was spotted yesterday, the day before, and the day before that one. Same location, usually around the same time too." Explained Richards as he held the binoculars to his eyes and looked out towards the clearing, scanning the area for the mystery woman again. "Notice anything about her, Marlowe?" Asked Richards as he continued looking for her, a few more puffs of cigarette smoke coming out of his mouth.

"She had bright white armor, and she was riding a horse too. Sir, if she's a scout, why haven't you sent anyone to either capture her or kill her, sir?" I asked as I looked out at the clearing where she was. Granted, I would not be much help in finding her at this point as the point where she was at was a good few hundred yards away from our position.

"You see any weapons on her, Marlowe?" Asked Richards as he shook his head, putting down the binoculars as he focused his attention back on the two of us. Buckam seemed to be taking a bit of time to digest what was being said, it was not often that you had mystery women on horseback show up to a battlefield. Especially not one as gruesome as this one was. I closed my eyes momentarily to try and visualize her, to recreate what I saw with my memories, that's when I remembered that she had no weapons on her. None that I could see with the binoculars anyway.

"Negative, sir. She was unarmed." I responded as Richards let out a small chuckle before shaking his head. More frustration showing as he let out a sigh, letting out another puff of smoke.

"That's the thing, Marlowe, _that's the bitch about it._ She's unarmed. Higher-ups want us to follow standard rules of engagement out here: means we can only engage 'em if they're visibly armed and are presenting a threat to us, 'til then, can't even fuckin' shoot her. As for capturing her, if she is a scout, then God knows what's in that forest. Goin' to wait 'til we get some recon done, I don't wanna risk it. We still don't have a clear idea of our surrounding area yet." Richards explained as he casually tossed his now burnt-out cigarette off the side of the tower.

"So, we're sitting ducks right now, great. When were you planning on telling us this information, sir?" Asked Buckam with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, different than his usual sternness. Richards nodded.

"After this, but I figured that since the topic was in the air at the moment, I may as well show you two now. Plus, sergeant first class, I know that you of all people are the kind that gotta see it to believe it and all that." Teased Richards as he climbed down the ladder, motioning us to follow as the corporal from earlier sprinted to the tower, immediately going back to his post after saluting the captain. We followed him back to his office as he tossed the pack of cigarettes onto his desk and hung the pair of binoculars on the coat rack next to the door before he sat back down. In front of a fair pile of paperwork.

"In other news, the radio-heads think they'll have comms up and running by the end of the week. Means we'll be able to start exploring this place a little more, maybe even find that girl if we're lucky. POWs are already helping us get a gist of the local language 'round here. Should have enough guides available for every platoon leader and platoon sergeant 'round the same time that the comms are set up." Explained the captain as he straightened out the pile of unfinished paperwork on his desk.

"Who'll be going out then, sir?" I asked, he simply just looked up at me. He didn't need to say anything for me to get the message. It was me, of course, it would be my platoon and me.

"Take a couple of squads and go follow the dirt road out to wherever the hell it leads and see if you can find this mystery girl. That is our top priority right now, is that understood?" Asked the captain as he started to read through one of the papers which were stacked on his desk. I nodded and gave him the affirmative.

"I want to see you outside by 0600 hours conducting PT with your platoon, oh, and I need the after-action report (AAR) on my desk by tonight, no later than midnight." Ordered the captain as he rubbed his eyes a little, continuing with his paperwork. I, again, gave him the affirmative as he then dismissed Buckam and me.

It was around 2200 hours when I turned in my after-action report to the captain, I was on my way back to my quarters when I noticed Rick writing something. I quickly ran up to him and sat next to him, he was overlooking the side of the hill we charged down during the fight. He had his red torch clipped to his chest, allowing it to shine down onto the paper which provided just enough light to make out what he was writing. He seemed to be recounting the events of the last few days, like a journal of some sort.

"Didn't know you kept a journal now, Rick," I commented which almost made the poor kid jump out of his skin. I could see he was tired, nobody around here was able to sleep with all the commotion of everything still being transported in.

"This isn't a journal, Marl-sir!" Rick explained as he then went back to writing. I chuckled a bit, Rick still was getting used to referring to me as "sir" in formation, even though we were out of formation at the moment. I assured him that he could refer to me by name in casual situations, such as this, to which he simply nodded.

"Well, Rick, if this ain't a journal…then what is it?" I asked as I started to read some of what he was writing down. To give him credit, he was pretty good at writing, the way he used imagery and the show versus tell rule probably outshines my work in here by a landslide!

"It's a story, sir-Marlowe. Just a story I'm startin' out here." Explained Rick as he finished the sentence he was on and then closed his book, shoving it in his breast pocket along with the pencil he was using as he then turned his torch off. Before this, I didn't even think he was remotely interested in writing, mainly because I only saw him do so whenever he was responding to a letter. Not during his free time.

"Why are you writing a story?" I asked with both confusion and curiosity, "I didn't think you liked to write in your free time, you didn't do so back in the jungle. Not even in Saigon."

"It's for my ma! My ma said she always wanted me to write her 'bout what was goin' on so imma write a story for her, see how she likes it. Plus, what's happenin' with us right now is comin' straight outta some sorta science fiction novel or somethin' else." Explained Rick as he looked out into the distance, starting to lightly whistle as he did so. I let out a faint chuckle when he finished.

"Yeah, no kidding…" I reminisced as I then asked him if he had come up with a title for his story. He chuckled and shook his head, "I haven't gotten that far yet, just started today, man," was how he explained not having a title for his story yet. He then got up and stretched before looking at something in the distance, his expression dropping.

"Yo man, there's somethin' out there, y'see that?" Rick pointed out as he somewhat froze in place, following his gaze, I saw what he was looking at: something white, just a blur. But I already knew it was the woman, the red-haired woman from earlier. She just sat on her horse, staring at the battlefield, _maybe even at us_. I wondered if she could even see us from the distance she was at, she seemed to notice me in the guard tower when I first saw her…could she see me now though?

"You seein' this, man?" Asked Rick for clarification, my silence must've made the poor kid think he was going insane. I just simply nodded as I saw the woman in white turn around and go back into the forest. From where we were, it simply looked like a white spot disappearing, fading, into the blackness of the forest behind her.

"Marlowe, man, what was that?" Asked an anxious Rick as he quickly started making his way to the barracks. Poor kid, as if not enough things were spooking him in this place, now he had this. Then again, she was just a woman…hopefully, _just_ , a woman on a horse.

"We'll find out soon enough… Catch some rest, we'll be doing some PT with the other platoons at 0600 hours. Your squad leaders and team leaders already know of this so they will get you sorted out." I explained as we then parted ways, Rick going to the barracks while I went back to where we were. Unlike the other night, the howitzers were silent as no more arrows were being hurled at us from the forest, the only noises that filled the night sky were the sounds of distant construction and the rumbling of engines in conjunction with the sounds of nature. I looked out at where the woman on horseback was, only to see nothing. Part of me wished that she'd get closer, she seemed to be the only thing from this world that wasn't trying to kill us yet. _Yet_.

The end of the week came sooner than expected, Buckam, all the squad leaders, and I were given the handbooks which were basic army green pocketbooks with a bunch of translations inside. They were just like any other foreign language dictionary, and soon, the goal was for each soldier in the entire battalion to have a copy by the end of the month. The comms were finally established, meaning we all now had working radio communications which meant that soon, we would be able to start putting helicopters in the air. This also meant that soon, my platoon and I would start performing reconnaissance operations into the areas surrounding the hills. We would start to look for _her_. She hadn't left my mind at all that week, the mystery woman who kept showing up exactly two times a day at the same time too, almost like clockwork.

I had so many questions to ask that mystery woman, some of which included: do you work for the enemy? Why have you been watching us? Why haven't you tried to kill us yet?

"Marlowe! Come with me!" I heard Richards call-out from the entrance of the chow hall, I sighed as I had barely started on what I had a hard time believing was a chicken breast and mashed potatoes. Typical Army food. I tossed all the food in the nearest trash bag as I met Randall at the entrance, together, we started walking back to his makeshift office which was inside a trailer.

"Any particular reason you brought me with you, sir?" I asked as he sat down behind his desk, sliding a black and white image towards me. I caught it before it slid off the table, holding it up as I looked down at it.

"Got some men from the first platoon to snap this photo, was a real challenge, gettin' them close enough without her noticin' too. Must've taken three tries 'fore it worked." Explained Richards as I looked down at the image of the woman. The same girl I saw just a couple of days ago too, red hair and those red eyes. In this picture, she seemed unaware that her photo was taken, she was looking in the distance instead. She wore an almost mournful expression, and I only say almost as the poor quality of the picture made it hard to tell for certain.

"The picture's yours to keep. Use it as a reference while you're out there lookin' for her. Any questions?" Asked bluntly as he looked up at me. I slid the photograph, which was no larger than the palm of my hand by the way, in my helmet, so that it would be stuck inside my helmet toward the top.

"Sir, what do you want us to do once we find her?" I asked as that was the entire reason why the picture was taken after all. However, part of me was afraid that our orders would be to eliminate her, it was not as though she was actively trying to kill us, and we hadn't been attacked for days by now.

"Figure out who she is, if she's a threat, and if not, then why she's hangin' around us. And if she is a threat, _eliminate_ her. We don't need some bitch spouting our positions and defenses to the enemy. Understood?" Asked Richards once he finished explaining his orders. I gave him the affirmative as he then dismissed me, something I was internally grateful for as I needed the rest. I had an operation to plan after all.


	18. Oscar-Mike

Oscar-Mike

It was the night before we were supposed to go down the hill, to explore the surrounding areas. I was in the mess hall, eating with Buckam, my second in command; Corporal Sylvester "Sly" Reece, squad leader for the first squad in my platoon; Sergeant Jimmy "J-Man" Rivera, squad leader for the second squad; and lastly Sergeant James "Elvis" Presley, squad leader for the third squad. We had already finished with all the briefings and were just waiting to head out there now, it was like the ambition you get when you're about to go down a long drop in a rollercoaster, that tense moment before the rush of adrenaline hits you.

"So, what do y'all think we're goin' find out there, fellas?" Asked Sly as he stirred around the concoction in his bowl which was supposed to be a beef stew around, causing it to become more discolored. Sly came from West Virginia as a draftee, he simply chose the Army as his parents were both Army veterans, even though he wished to become a police officer instead. However, he seemed to adjust well to the Army lifestyle, he was always very squared away and on top of things, though he wasn't exactly the brightest guy around. This was perhaps part of the reason why he wasn't already in college by the time the draft started. Elvis shook his head before letting out a faint chuckle, one that's usually associated with uncertainty.

"What I _hope_ we find out there is someone or something who can make sense outta all this, gettin' real sick of shootin' dopes without knowin' who they are." Answered the sergeant from New York. Originally a hoodlum in the Bronx turned Army brat after joining to make a new life for himself. He was a good NCO, partied just as hard and was in pretty good shape. He also had a pretty good sense of humor while also being a down to earth guy. He also had a big thing for Elvis Presley, both because of his last name and because he always listened to his music, hence how he got the nickname, unlike Sly who got his because of a basic training mishap.

"Amen to that, man, amen to that. I just hope that there's more to this place, y'know? We've all been in the jungle too much, man, I just want something different." Replied J-Man who had given up on eating his piece of steak which looked more like a piece of hard leather than it did anything edible. Rivera was from an immigrant family from Mexico, he joined the Army for two reasons: God and his family. These two reasons arguably made him the most dangerous person on the battlefield as he wasn't too concerned with making it back home, more so about giving his family money and going to Heaven. As the oldest brother, it was expected that he provides for the family once he left the house, something which he held dear to him. I already had finished my meal and was just sticking around to spend time with my NCOs. A good officer ought to get close to those under his command, especially the NCOs as those will be the ones helping you carry out and enact your orders, there's a reason the Army calls NCOs the "backbone" of the Army.

"Look 'round, man! Everything's already different." Commented Elvis as he took a large gulp of water, pointing out the mountains and the forest in the distance. Everyone at the table glanced at the tranquil yet ominous forest upon Elvis pointing it out. The darkness of it, the scorched earth and destroyed trees, it was like Hell on earth. Reminded me of Vietnam, looked just like the jungle after a couple of napalm bombs were thrown onto it. It was eerie.

"Well, you know what I mean, right, man?" Asked J-Man with enthusiasm. That was one characteristic of Rivera, he was always the one motivating everybody during company runs or morning PT. He was the most inspirational guy I knew personally.

"Think he means he's tired of shootin' gooks. Tired of shootin' in general. Isn't that right?" Asked Buckam who had mostly remained silent for most of the conversation up until now. Rivera nodded, no words, just a slow and simple nod. I could feel him when he did that, I was tired too, everybody was. This was a whole new world, quite literally, and we just wanted change.

Although politics were more a taboo topic in the Army, meaning it wasn't talked about, everybody knew that this whole war was full of bullshit. Bullshit which piled so high to the point where I doubt the Hueys we rode in could stay above it, meaning that we were all buried in it, too deep to escape it. It's why a lot of us avoided talking about the war whenever we were home, not we hated what we were doing, we just hated having to deal with the buffoons who _thought_ they knew what we were doing.

"Hey, Elvis, I wanna make a bet." Commented Sly to lighten the mood. Sly was notorious for losing large amounts of his pay to ridiculous bets he made whenever he played poker, so naturally, a sly grin formed across Elvis's face as he heard this. All of us leaned in as well, thankful that it was his money, not ours being put on the table.

"This place is so ridiculous, bet ya we're goin' find somethin' ridiculous." He continued as he pulled out his wallet and put twenty bucks on the table, sliding it toward the center of the table. The sly New Yorker took out his twenty and slapped it down on top of Sly's twenty.

"Like what? A fuckin' dragon or somethin' man?" Asked Elvis as he took another large gulp of water, emptying it as he then shoved it back into his canteen pouch. Buckam whistled a bit as he saw the twenties on the table, probably wondering why Sly was even making a bet in the first place.

"Sure. We'll say that if we find a dragon, then I get your twenty bucks! If we don't, keep mine. Deal?" Asked Sly before the two shook hands. The two men then took their twenties back, shoving them in their wallets as the table erupted into laughter.

"You might as well give Elvis your money now! No way we're findin' a fuckin' dragon out here!" Teased Buckam as Rivera smacked the back of Sly's head. I was tempted to do the same, sure there were those weird humanoid animal creatures, but no way was a dragon going to show up, impossible.

"I'd listen to the platoon sarge, Sly. Even I think the concept of finding a dragon out here is ridiculous!" I commented, Sly simply shook his head with a chuckle, the one that meant that he knew he was done for. But it at least accomplished his goal: to brighten the mood of everybody at the table, everybody had their mind on Sly's ridiculousness which was his, arguably, his most notable characteristic. I feel as though he would've made a good cop had he not been drafted into the Army.

"It's 2115 hours, we should all probably get some sleep. Big day ahead of us." I suggested once the laughter subsided. The NCOs nodded as we all got up and tossed our waste into the nearest trash bag as we all started to make our way back to the barracks. It was already dark out by the time we exited the mess hall, thankfully there had been no more attacks on us, I guess that the enemy finally figured out that attacking us was a very bad idea. Or maybe that woman…she was still in my mind, more prominent now that we were supposed to go out and find her. I stopped mid-way, letting the NCOs get to their barracks as I looked off towards the forest, down the dirt road trail that led out to god knows where.

I wondered if she was even working with the enemy, granted she seemed mournful whenever she appeared, though recently, she was had stopped making appearances. She stopped showing up a couple of days ago. She had armor, so maybe she was a combatant who was killed or captured by the enemy in the battle…that was if she wasn't on their side. Soon enough, I'd get my answer, but I was left wondering for now as I shook my head and made my way back to my quarters. I'd get my answers soon enough.

The sky was a bright blue with puffy white clouds in the sky, a cool breeze swept through the hill as we all formed up just outside the forest. Our mission was simple: follow the dirt path that led into the forest and see where it led to. Since our comms were working now, we would be able to call in for reinforcements and artillery support if needed. Without a map though, we would have to shoot up a flare to mark our location which created the risk of our location becoming more exposed if we were attempting to maintain a low profile, so naturally, we were briefed to only fire up a flare as a last resort. The helipads were still being constructed and helicopters were still being transported in meaning we still had to wait on air support.

"All right, remember, we all need to maintain our distances from each other while also remaining within sight of each other! I don't want anybody getting lost in these woods, is that understood?" I shouted to the formation to which I got a "hooah" which, in the Army, is another way of saying "affirmative."

"Do not fire your weapons unless you are being fired upon, rules of engagement still apply here! Call out everything you see as well, the more notes we take, the easier it'll be for the intelligence people to do their jobs which makes our job easier!" I reminded everybody as we formed up, forming into a platoon wedge formation. I looked around at everybody, we all seemed anxious which, after what we had seen. Who could blame us? I then grabbed the transmitter from the radioman next to me.

"HOMEPLATE, this is BRAVO ACTUAL, we are ready to proceed with the operation, do we have a green-light? Over." I radioed into the TOC (Tactical Operations Center). I took a minute before I got a response.

"BRAVO ACTUAL, this is HOMEPLATE, we read you loud and clear. You have a green-light, I repeat, you have a green-light to proceed with the operation. Good luck out there, HOMEPLATE out." Replied the radio operator on the other end, his voice just as anxious as we all were. I gave the transmitter back to the radioman as I then gave the order to proceed forward.

At the front was the second squad, led by Sergeant Rivera, the most experienced NCO out of the three squad leaders. To the left, slightly behind the second squad was the first squad with the third squad off to the right. Behind the second squad was the Buckam and I, along with machinegun crews. The first few yards were nothing but scorched earth, the ground blackened and covered with craters, and almost all the trees were destroyed. The few trees that were still standing had lost all their leaves. Aside from the crunching of leaves and twigs beneath our boots and the clanking of gear, it was utterly silent as nobody dared to speak, it was just like Vietnam, an enemy could've been anywhere. However, as we marched through the forest, following the dirt path, we soon started to notice that we appeared to be the only things left alive in the forest.

"Not going to lie, sir, but it's a little too silent in here, don't you think?" Asked my platoon sergeant as we kept marching through the woods, soon getting under shade as we entered the part of the forest which hadn't been touched by our artillery yet. It seemed someone was in the forest though, as we all noticed a couple of extinguished campfires and some logs which had been converted into makeshift benches.

"I agree with you, tell everyone to keep their heads on a swivel. People were out here, the campfires and logs are evidence of that, there could still be hostiles in the area." I ordered as I scanned the area, soon, we heard wildlife as we continued marching through the woods, we mainly heard birds getting disturbed by us and flying off, meaning that our position was already compromised if somebody was trained enough and looking hard enough. Buckam relayed my directions to all the squad leaders. It at least was not as eerily quiet as it was earlier, however, we were at the point where we could not even see the hill anymore. I checked my watch, we had been walking for just over an hour, therefore I called the platoon to a halt.

"Everybody hydrate and rest up, we'll be Oscar-Mike in five mikes," I explained as the squads took up defensive positions before taking gulps of water from their canteens. I ordered Buckam to go to the different squad leaders to get the LACE (Liquids, Ammunition, Casualties, and Equipment) reports as I grabbed my canteen, the water felt good after an hour of walking in the woods. It only took five minutes or so for Buckam to get the reports from Sly, J-Man, and Elvis.

"Reece says that his squad's all good on supplies and equipment, no casualties. A couple of soldiers in Rivera's squad had to change socks because they were getting blisters, other than that, his squad is all good. Presley said that one of his automatic riflemen might've sprained his ankle because of a pothole he didn't see. Other than that, Presley is all right on supplies and equipment, sir." Buckam reported, of course, I immediately took notice of the sprained ankle.

"Is somebody looking at him? He could have twisted his ankle, or worse. Wouldn't want to force him to walk on a bad ankle." I asked with concern as I looked over to the man who was sitting up against a tree, the boot on his left ankle was taken off as somebody was already looking at him.

"As you can see, Doc's already checkin' him out. The guy said he can still walk, it's probably nothin' serious, sir." Buckam explained, I nodded and grabbed the transmitter off the radioman who was next to me as Buckam sat down and took a large gulp of water from his canteen.

"HOMEPLATE, this is BRAVO ACTUAL, come in. Over." I spoke to the transmitter, using an "indoor voice" which meant that I was speaking in a loud whisper. Sort of like a mumble except more audible.

"BRAVO ACTUAL, this is HOMEPLATE. We read you loud and clear, what's the situation out there? Over." The same radio operator from before responded, sounding a little less anxious than earlier. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the medic leave the automatic gunner who put his sock and boot back on before taking another drink out of his canteen, the medic then came over to Buckam.

"HOMEPLATE, we have sighted multiple campsites suggesting a possible presence of either civilians or hostiles within the AO. We also have a possible casualty, an automatic gunner in the third squad might have hurt his ankle, over." I reported to the radio operator as Doc whispered something into Buckam's ear before linking back up with his squad.

"BRAVO ACTUAL, we copy all, do you require a MEDEVAC? Over?" Asked the man on the other end radio. Buckam signaled that he had something to tell me as most of the people in the platoon had finished drinking their canteens, going back to establishing a perimeter of defense. Meanwhile, there were a couple of soldiers who were at the rear of the formation, presumably using the bathroom.

"HOMEPLATE, wait one," I said as Buckam quickly made his way over to me. The automatic rifleman who had hurt his foot getting in his defensive position quickly, not seeming to be bothered by his ankle.

"Doc checked him out and said it's nothin' serious. The guy just sprained his ankle, he can still fight, sir." Reported Buckam before going back to his position. I nodded and picked the transmitter back up.

"HOMEPLATE, this is BRAVO ACTUAL, MEDEVAC is not required. The automatic rifleman sprained his ankle is all, he is still combat effective, he can still fight. Over."

"Understood BRAVO ACTUAL, you are cleared to proceed with the operation. Watch yourselves out there, over." Replied the radioman as everybody was back in formation now.

"WILCO, we will continue to proceed with the operation, BRAVO ACTUAL out." I finished as I then gave the transmitter back to the radioman before giving everybody the hand signal to stand back up. We were still in the platoon wedge formation as I then gestured for us to move forward, the gesture was repeated by everybody in the formation like all hand signals are as we then continued our advance.

A few hours later, the sun was starting to set. We had already gotten through our MREs, and we were all a little over halfway done with our canteens before the second squad suddenly gave the hand signal to halt, which means to stop moving and get to cover. Immediately, everybody got down to the prone position and drew their weapons out as I ordered Buckam to go find out what was going on. He nodded and high crawled his way to Rivera, not too far, I would say a few feet from us, I could see faint lights. I think everybody else saw them too as I noticed a few soldiers in the other squads getting distracted by it.

"What the hell? Did we stumble onto an encampment or somethin' like that?" Asked a voice from behind me, I recognized it to be Mitch's voice. It was quiet enough and we were close enough to the point where I could hear the click of the fire selector switches.

"Beats me, man, I don't care either way though. Shootin' these fuckers certainly beats walkin' by a landslide. 'Least we got somethin' to do." Replied Bob.

"Hooah to that, man. Hooah to that." Jokingly commented Bootleg Joe, this answer was met with a few suppressed chuckles before somebody violently shushed all of them. Buckam then crawled back to me, gesturing that I follow him which I did. At the front of the formation, next to Rivera, I could now more clearly see why he had called the halt. Just a few feet from us, about a couple yards or so, there were a couple of buildings that were illuminated by what seemed to be candle-lit lanterns. The lights helped me discern a couple of silhouettes as I quickly pulled out my binoculars.

"What do you see, sir?" Buckam asked as I scanned the area with the binoculars. What I could see were some more buildings, nothing spectacular, these seemed to be simple wood and clay homes with candle-lit lanterns acting as streetlights. Dirt paths connected each home with a well in the middle, I could see more people through the binoculars. All of them seemed human, wearing medieval era clothes, with about half a dozen children outside playing with wooden toy swords and shields. No actual weapons seemed to be present anywhere within the village. I told Buckam and Rivera what I was seeing as I then told Buckam to get the radioman, he was next to me in less than a minute as I quickly grabbed the transmitter off him.

"HOMEPLATE, this is BRAVO ACTUAL, come in. Over." I spoke urgently, still trying to keep my voice as low as possible in hopes that none of the villagers could see us or hear us yet. Looking through the binoculars, nobody seemed to be aware of us yet.

"BRAVO ACTUAL, this is HOMEPLATE, we read you. Over." Replied the voice on the other end, I quickly reported the village to him.

"BRAVO ACTUAL, do you have a visual on any weapons or armed individuals? Over." Asked the voice on the other end, I quickly handed both Buckam and then Rivera the binoculars, they both shook their heads as Rivera handed me back the binoculars. I took one last look.

"Negative, we have no visual on any armaments, I repeat, we have no visual on any armaments. What do you want us to do? Over." I asked as I could hear a few whispers being transferred around the formation.

"BRAVO ACTUAL, current orders are to hold position and standby for further orders. How copy? Over." The radio operator said as I could hear a couple of other voices in the background, probably Richards and some other officer or NCO trying to figure out how we approach this. It was obvious that we'd be ordered to go into the village, but the question was how we were going to go about it.

"Good copy, we'll hold position and await further orders. BRAVO ACTUAL out." I answered as I continued to hold the transmitter, checking my watch. It was 1734 hours, just about half an hour past four in the afternoon. The sun was starting to set, meaning that it was starting to get cooler. We needed it to get cooler as we had been on the move for about five to seven hours, not counting the times we stopped to eat, drink, and rest. We were all tired and ready to hit the hay as soon as we got back to the hill.

"How're you and your quad holding up, Rivera?" I asked the second squad leader as they were the ones who were essentially leading the formation this entire time. I heard him chuckle a bit followed by a sigh of exhaustion.

"We're all motivated like always, you know that. Just a little tired though, if I had to be honest. Just a little though, sir." Joked Rivera as I patted his back.

"What I like to hear, sergeant. Just what I like to hear. Keep that up and you'll be a platoon sergeant in no time! You might even take Buckam's job!" I joked, garnering a chuckle from Rivera.

"Don't get too ahead of yourself now, J-Man. You'd have to get a score of over three hundred on the PT test if you want to take my job. Doubt you could even reach one hundred, _sergeant._ " Teased Buckam, causing Rivera to smack the back of his helmet lightly. However, before any of us could say another word, a voice came over the transmitter: "BRAVO ACTUAL, this is HOMEPLATE come in. Over. I repeat, BRAVO ACTUAL, this is HOMEPLATE, come in. How copy? Over." Quickly, I grabbed the transmitter and responded.

"HOMEPLATE, this is BRAVO ACTUAL, good copy. We read you loud and clear, what are our orders? Over." I asked, watching through the binoculars as some of the kids seemed to be getting called back home by their parents.

"BRAVO ACTUAL, you are to proceed into the village and look for any weapons and sources of intelligence. Afterward, you are to report your findings back to us. Over." Ordered the radio operator as I watched a couple of villagers clean the dirt path with brooms, in addition to their being an absence of weapons, there was also nothing electronic anywhere in the village from what I could see.

"Copy, what are our rules of engagement? Over." I asked as I then watched the villagers go back into their houses, a couple of the children playing looked over in our direction which worried me for a minute as I thought we were compromised, however, the children either didn't see us or they simply did not care as they continued to play with each other.

"BRAVO ACTUAL, you must be engaged to engage. I say again, you must be engaged to engage. How copy? Over." Explained the radio operator I finally put down the binoculars. Slinging my M-16 over my shoulder as I then pulled out the small pocketbook, the language guide. I knew I'd be needing it if I was going to talking to these villagers, who hopefully spoke the same language as the POWs spoke.

"Good copy, we will not engage unless engaged. Anything else? Any more information? Over." I asked for clarification, the last thing anybody needed right now was for any of us to make a dumb mistake. To our knowledge, we were establishing the first contact with this village, meaning we had to leave a good impression.

"Negative, remember to report your findings ASAP, good luck BRAVO ACTUAL. HOMEPLATE out." With that, the radio fell silent as I gave the transmitter back to the radioman before turning over to Buckam who was laying on his stomach next to me. His weapon aimed at the village.

"Buckam, grab Sly and Elvis so that I can explain what our plan is. Make it quick and keep a low profile, the last thing we need is for these villagers to get spooked by us before we establish contact with them." I ordered as Buckam nodded and high crawled his way to the other squad leaders. I then turned over to Rivera.

"I'll explain the plan in more detail once Buckam gets back here with the other squad leaders. But basically, I want your squad to escort me to the village so that we can establish contact, we'll have the other two squads, as well as the MG teams, cover us in case anything goes south. Once we establish that it's clear, we'll have the rest of the platoon form up on us. We'll probably spend the night at the village and have APCs or something come pick us up in the morning." I explained, Rivera nodded as Buckam came back with Reece and Presley following behind him.

"What's the play, sir? We torchin' the village or somethin' like that?" Asked Presley who already had a light out, his M-16 slung over his shoulder. I quickly shook my head, torching villages was something we did in Vietnam to weaken the Viet Cong, the Viet Cong weren't here so, therefore, there was no need to torch any villages. I then explained the plan to them, the same plan I had told Rivera just a minute earlier.

"Hearts and minds, sir? And here I thought we were done with that, guess not, I'd suggest leavin' the first sarge with us in case somethin' happens to you out there." Suggested Presley, I looked around, everybody seemed to agree that this would be the best move. Then Corporal Reece grabbed a couple of sticks and laid them on the ground, laying the two sticks side by side to each other.

"Sir, if I may, I'd suggest an alternative plan to if somethin' goes south. What we'll do is have the two squads like this, but once you're taken contact, I can have my squad come in perpendicularly to catch the bastards in a crossfire." He explained as he slowly slid the stick which was supposed to represent his squad sideways so that it was forming a ninety-degree angle with the first stick. I looked around for everybody's opinion, everybody seemed to agree that this was a better plan.

"All right, let's get into position then. Remember, we cannot engage until we are engaged, is that understood?" I asked, making sure that everybody understood the rules of engagement. I got a silent, but affirmative "hooah" from the four NCOs as they all high crawled into their positions, I got back behind the second squad, next to Buckam and the radioman, as the machine gun teams peeled off us to set up their weapons.

"You ready for this, sir?" Bucakam asked me as he switched the fire selector switch on his M-16 to the "safe" mode as he then slung it across his shoulder. I did the same as I let out a silent sigh.

"Let's just hope this encounter goes more smoothly than our previous encounters with these people. Hopefully, there's a lot less shooting." I grumbled with hope as I looked around for the different squad leaders. All three of them gave me the thumbs up, signaling that they were in position. I looked over at Buckam.

"Are you ready, sarge?" I asked as the machinegun teams gave me the thumbs up, signaling they had finished setting up their machine guns. The sergeant first class chuckled a bit before shaking his head, wearing a grin as he did so.

"I always am. Good luck, sir." He answered with confidence, the type of confidence that always came from an NCO. Part of me wished he had part of the confidence he had at the moment as I then gave us the hand gesture to stand up.


	19. First Contact

First Contact

A lot of the villagers seemed scared to death of us, I couldn't blame them, we were all fully kitted out with helmets, Kevlar, and guns. A lot of them ran into their houses, slamming the doors shut as they saw us arrive, many others quickly picking up their children and bringing them back to their homes. A lot of us were still used to scanning the area, keeping our heads on a swivel, while we walked which made us all look like we were on edge. Which, to be fair, we were.

Getting closer to the village helped me get a better picture of the place, the series of houses which were all small and modest, the small farms by each of them which suggested that agriculture and trade were probably the only means of the economy to these people. Just beyond the well was a house that was slightly larger than the others, I assumed this to belong to a village elder, or whoever was running the show in this place as none of the other houses were as big as it. The sunset caused all the shadows to extend out behind us, making the scene look more like some painting as opposed to real life. Half of me wondered if these people knew at all what was going on at the hill, I wondered if any of them knew of the battles. They had to, they lived right next to the place, yet here they were. Continuing life as normal, even letting their children go outside to play.

All the villagers were now peering at us from the windows of their homes, parents their children tightly as not one of them dared to make a sound as we entered the village. It was almost like when a character got scared in a children's cartoon show when you could see that character visibly shake out of fear. Nobody was even daring to come put out the lantern or clean the dirt paths now, it was some sort of western standoff, and we were the bad guy. However, as we got to the well which was at the center of the village, we noticed a young child who seemed to have been forgotten by his parents, he stood awkwardly by the fountain with his toy sword and shield in hand, staring at all of us. I didn't think the child feared us, he seemed more interested than he did afraid as he took a curious step toward us. Zippermouth, the mute, slowly opened one of his breast pockets and pulled out a chocolate bar as he then held it out to the child, motioning for him to come to take it.

"Should we turn off our safeties now, sir?" Rivera asked in a whisper as we were both anxiously watching Zippermouth and the child interact with each other. Slowly and discreetly, I shook my head, not wanting to scare the villagers anymore than they already were. The child then stuck the sword in between his arm and torso, closing the gap as he slowly took the chocolate bar as Zippermouth opened it for him and made a motion with his mouth for the child to eat it, the child took a curious bite. Seeming satisfied, the child then quickly devoured the rest of the chocolate bar, allowing us all to let out a sigh of relief as I then approached the child who seemed to already fully trust in us. I pulled out the guide, the handbook made by the POWs we had in our custody, and cleared my throat before using my command voice to say the following to everybody in the village:

"Who are the parents of this boy?" I called out as Zippermouth took the now empty wrapped back from the kid, shoving the empty piece of plastic into his pocket. For a few moments, there was silence, I thought I had maybe gotten the message lost in translation somehow before we all noticed a young man and woman slowly and cautiously approach us, they still seemed unsure as to whether they could trust us or not. A couple of privates almost raised their weapons but were disciplined enough not to, thankfully, as the couple got behind their child. I looked up at them, they looked down at their child and then up at me.

"Are you the parents of this boy?" I asked cautiously, trying to sound as friendly as possible, something which is hard to do when you're dressed for war. The man slowly nodded as the woman took the child's hand, the man taking the child's sword away as he thanked me.

"Are you men soldiers?" Asked the woman curiously, I could feel the eyes of every person in the village trained on me, all the eyes of my soldiers trained on me. I slowly and cautiously nodded, still trying to give off the impression that we meant no harm as I then put up my hands.

"We are soldiers, but we come in peace." I slowly articulated, probably butchering the sentence as I had to flip through several pages of the handbook to complete that sentence. The woman and man seemed to relax a little but still didn't seem to trust us entirely. They at least trusted me enough not to turn their noses at me for the time being.

"If you come in peace, why are you here then?" Asked the man as the woman clutched her child a little tighter. The young boy making grabby hands towards Zippermouth, probably wanting another chocolate bar from him.

"We come looking for information," I explained slowly, again, being sure to articulate and punctuate all my words. "I am the leader of these soldiers, where is your leader?" I asked as I heard a door to my right open, slowly and cautiously. I turned around to see a short, old man with greying hair and a grey mustache wearing some sort of suit with a hat. He seemed a little cautious at first but seemed to ease up a little as he noticed that I was talking to two of his citizens.

"I am the chief of this village, good sir," the elderly man explained, taking his hat off and putting it over his chest as he bowed to me. "Who might you be?" The village chief inquired as he looked at my men and I, inspecting us with his eyes as the family of three walked back to their house, the little child waving a goodbye to Zippermouth as the parents seemed a little more relaxed and at ease, probably because they were heading back to the safety of their own house.

"I am a soldier, we are all soldiers, we are looking for information, sir," I explained as the man listened intuitively, nodding once I finished as he motioned for me to come with him. I quickly threw a thumbs up in the direction of the forest to signal that we were in the clear. Slowly, the rest of my platoon came to the village, the village chief seemed a little tense at first before I simply explained that the soldiers were all under my command and had no intentions of harming him or his village. I then motioned for Buckam to follow me inside as he instructed the squad leaders to position their squads around the village to establish a defensive perimeter around the village.

The inside of the village chief's house was rather quaint, his main room was composed of a fireplace, a rug, two wooden chairs, and a painting over his fireplace which showed what I assumed to be a younger version of the man and a woman standing next to him. Probably his wife. He moved one of the wooden chairs so that it was facing us as he sat down, we both sat down in the chair across from his, we would now be facing each other.

"You have a strange accent, where do you come from?" Asked the village chief curiously, leaning in a little as he asked. I'll be honest, this was the first time anyone ever said I had an accent, but this probably arose from the fact that I was probably speaking in broken sentences to them. I nodded and opened the book back up, the village chief seeming to curiously read its contents.

"We come from a foreign land," I said, not wanting to freak this man out as I had no idea what he thought of his. Granted, he did not seem very afraid of us, he didn't seem to entirely trust us yet. However, he seemed to buy my answer as a look of understanding shone in his eyes as he then asked to see the book. I handed it to him, and he read it for a couple of moments before handing it back to me.

"Why have foreign soldiers come to my village? We are not very wealthy, and we are a secluded settlement. You would not be able to claim very much if you conquered us." Explained the village chief as, out of the corner of my eye, some of the villagers slowly came out of their houses. Some of the villagers stopped fearing us but were still cautious around us. Once he finished, I nodded as I understood that he had a responsibility to look after all those in his village.

"We simply come looking for information, we are new here and would like to learn more about these lands. This village was closest to us, which is the reason why we came here. We are not here to conquer you, sir." I explained to the village chief, he simply nodded again as he looked around a little before leaning back a little, seeming to trust us a little more now. He then smiled a little and let out a faint chuckle.

"You must forgive me for my apprehensiveness, I must remember you and your soldiers are new here…it is just that many of us are in fear of being conquered, these are challenging times after all. But I must ask, how do I know that you will not try and take over my village?" Asked the village chief with a look of concern and curiosity, he was opening up to us more, but he was still nervous. I wondered what he meant by "challenging times" though, perhaps there was a war in progress.

"You must not worry, sir! I understand your worries completely, therefore, I must ask what we can do to prove that you can trust us! Is there anything that you or your village needs help with? My soldiers and I would be more than happy to help!" I offered, although it seems like the conversation went smoothly, I am simply writing a transcript of what occurred. In actuality, there were long pauses between myself and the village chief as I had to look through the handbook to both figure out what he was saying in addition to how I was supposed to respond. I had to ask him to repeat himself several times which must have annoyed the poor guy.

Talking to village chiefs was something we did commonly back in Vietnam, to find the Viet Cong, so I picked up a few tricks from Richards during my days as an enlisted soldier. So, therefore, I knew what I was doing once the chief invited me into his house, now I just had to figure out how to win him and his villagers over completely, we were going to end up spending the night there anyway. The village chief seemed impressed for a good minute or so, given how secluded the place was, I doubted that many outsiders came by to lend a helping hand, let alone soldiers. However, before he could say anything, we were both interrupted by a series of very violent coughs coming from the back of the house, the village chief's expression dropped as he glanced toward the back of the house, and then back at us.

"You must forgive me, kind gentlemen, but my wife has been very ill recently. The village practitioner does not know how to cure her, and the only other practitioner nearby would take days to arrive and charges a high price for his services!" Explained the village chief with sadness and frustration in his voice, now I knew I had an opportunity. Seeing this opportunity, I quickly jumped in.

"If you allow us to, sir, we have people who are professionals in healing other people. We would be more than happy to help cure your wife of her illness." I offered, the old man's eyes lighting up with hope as I finished. He almost jumped out of his seat as he quickly ushered us towards a room in the back of the house. Buckam was very confused, he probably was only making out phrases as none of the briefings we had on the language were very extensive at all.

"If you don't mind me askin', what'd you tell him, sir?" Asked Buckam as the village chief enthusiastically led us down the hall and into a bedroom where an elderly woman was lying. Coughing violently and sweating profusely, her skin a sickly yellow as she looked at us.

"Told him we could get Doc to look at her," I explained as the woman asked her husband who we were. Like everybody else, it took a little bit of convincing before she relaxed, in the back corner I noticed knight armor on an armor stand, but that wasn't my main concern right now as Buckam quickly sprinted out of the room to go get Doc, leaving just the three of us in the room. In the distance, I could see Mitch playing his guitar in front of a small group of children, their parents watching from the background. It seemed that the villagers were starting to get used to us, perhaps even taking a liking to us.

"If you do not mind me asking, sir, were you a soldier?" I asked, pointing at the armor on the armor stand in the corner of the room, the once brilliant silver now rusted and dulled. The village chief glanced at the armor, a small smile forming across his lips as he nodded.

"A lifetime ago, my good sir, for how else would a woman of this beauty fall for a man like me?" He joked, causing his wife to laugh a little, this action, unfortunately, forcing her to cough more. Noticing an empty glass by her, I quickly poured some water out of my canteen and into the glass before handing it to her, motioning for her to drink it. After doing so, she stopped coughing, thanking me as she did so. A few moments later, Buckam came back with Doc, the medic going over to the woman as he asked us to leave the room. Buckam, the village chief, and I were back in the living room, the man finally sharing some more information about where we were.

"This place is called Falmart?" Asked Buckam for clarification, the notepad he brought with him already full of notes. The village chief nodded, handing us a folded piece of paper. Upon unfolding it, it was revealed to be a map, the village was marked along with several other locations. I thanked him as I pocketed the map, this would finally allow us to start creating maps, meaning we wouldn't have to use flares to mark our positions, allowing artillery support to be way more accurate. We talked well into the evening, both Bucakm and I's notebooks were almost filled with notes before the village chief asked if there was anything else, we'd like to know, I almost said no before I remembered about the woman in white. Quickly, I removed my helmet and took out the picture of the girl, handing it to him.

"Your artists…they are incredible! How did they fit such detail into such a small piece of paper?" Asked the impressed village elder as he felt the picture and looked it up and down. I didn't feel like explaining the intricacies of photography to him at the moment as it was getting way late, and we were all tired. Instead, I inquired about the girl.

"Who is she? Is she a knight like you were?" I asked the man, he looked at me with a confused look on his face, I almost repeated myself before he started to laugh. Now I was the confused one, as was Buckam who tried checking the handbook to see if I had maybe said something wrong.

"Even those who come from the other side of the world know who she is, my good sir! Which kingdom did you say you and your soldiers came from again? Forgive me for my disrespectfulness, but I must ask how your rulers have not heard of _her!"_ Explained the village chief as he collected himself and stopped laughing, I took the picture back and placed it back inside my helmet. I decided to avoid answering where we were from for now as I didn't want to scare the poor man off, especially since we had made such good progress towards building an allegiance.

"You must forgive me, but I do not recognize her, it has been a long day and I am very tired. May you please remind me of who she is?" I asked, trying to sound as clueless as possible which wasn't very hard to do, considering that I was very clueless at the moment. The old man sighed as he then dropped a bombshell on the both of us.

"The woman you are asking about would be Princess Piña Co Lada, firstborn daughter of his majesty Emperor Molt Sol Augustus of the mighty Saderan Empire! She is also the creator leader of the Rose-Order of Knights, the finest knights of the land! May I ask why you carry a painting of her?" Explained the village chief, he then stopped to ask if I was okay as he probably could see my jaw dropping to the floor. Thank God none of us tried shooting her, that would have probably turned the whole continent against us. Now I was seriously impressed, but also deeply concerned; not only was she a scout, but she was also the daughter of an emperor and the leader of a group of elite warriors. This meant that she must've known what she was looking for if she was scouting us, and probably knew proper military tactics to use against us in battle.

My helmet was sitting on my lap, the picture staring up at me, it was almost as if we were face-to-face with each other. I was staring at a warrior, someone who was probably more skilled at fighting than I was, and someone who held way more power than I ever would. Buckam decided to talk for me as I was too lost in my thoughts, I wondered if my orders would be updated to "kill-on-sight" because she was a combatant. I wondered if she killed anybody, I mean, she more than likely did as she was the leader of her troops, but there was just something about her eyes that I could see in the photograph. Eyes that showed me, someone who hadn't taken a life yet, she seemed pretty freaked out when she saw the destruction on the battlefield after all, so maybe she hadn't yet.

"It certainly is going to be more dangerous to work in the fields at night after what has been happening in the last few weeks." I overheard the village chief say, this immediately snapped me back into reality. What could he be talking about? Was this a threat to us? There was still so much I did not know about this world, anything was possible at this point. I interrupted the conversation between Buckam and the village chief to press him about what he was talking about. Likewise, when I asked him about Princess Piña Co Lada, he seemed surprised by the question before he seemed to just accept the fact that I didn't know anything about this world and explained what he was talking about with a frustrated sigh at the end.

"Emperor Augustus sent an army, twenty-five thousand strong, into the gate on Alnus Hill to expand our glorious empire! However, none of our brave knights came back. After negotiating with the Imperial Senate and the several vassal states that belong to us, a force of one hundred and fifty thousand men was sent to Alnus Hill to conquer the world beyond the gate. All but five were killed, the five brave knights spoke tales of the legion being incinerated great fires which erupted from the hill itself! It was a massacre!" The village chief spoke, his voice trembling as he recounted the story, he took a moment to calm down a little. The look of pure and utter fear plastered on his face as he then continued his story.

"Now, with over one-third of the legion gone, our great emperor has been forced to concentrate his forces on maintaining control over the traitorous vassal states and vicious bands of bandits which have begun using this massacre as an opportunity to take power for themselves. I fear that, without the emperor's protection, this village may fall to bandits. _Or worse_." The village chief finished as he wiped some sweat off his forehead, leaving Buckam and I a little flabbergasted as the man then looked up at us. He seemed suspicious of us again.

"You and your soldiers came from the forest that leads to Alnus Hill, and you claim you are from a foreign land…be honest with me, good sir. But where do you truly come from?" Asked the village chief as my heart dropped, I expected that he would figure us out, but I didn't expect it to happen so quickly! It must have been because he was a knight, his training probably helped train him to think critically. I quickly excused Buckam and me under the guise that we were going to check on our medic who was still tending to the village chief's wife.

"What do we tell him? If we tell him that we're the ones that killed all those knights, he could turn on us! But if he finds out we lied to him, he would probably lose trust in us." I asked Buckam with concern and urgency, so far, we had learned where we were, who the woman in white was, and even some of the politics of this continent. We even had a map of the continent, to lose the trust of this village chief and his village would be a major loss for us. Buckam gritted his teeth a little as he seemed to be thinking hard as we got to the entrance of the village chief's bedroom.

"I'd say we tell him the truth, sir. Better he and his friends turn on us now than later, when we need his support. We've got enough actionable intel to find this princess, losing him as an ally wouldn't be that big of a loss at this point." Explained Buckam as we opened the door to see the village chief's wife sitting upright, happily sipping on a glass of water that Doc had prepared for her.

"How's she doing, Doc?" I asked after we saluted each other. I noticed the box the opened box of fever medicine leaning out of his breast pocket as he saluted me.

"She'll be fine in a few hours, sir, she just had a fever is all. Gave her some over-the-counter stuff I keep with me." Explained the medic as he noticed his open pocket and buttoned it closed.

"Are you sure giving her those pills was a good idea? She might have a negative reaction to them." I explained as I glanced at the elderly woman, she seemed all right, but I was still concerned. The last thing I wanted was to be accountable for the death of this village chief's wife in addition to the current predicament I found myself in at the moment. Doc shook his head with a bit of a smile.

"She's human like us, sir, the medicine won't harm her. Gave her the minimal dose anyway, so if she does react, it wouldn't be anythin' life-threatening." The medic said as he refilled the woman's glass of water for her, satisfied with his works, I dismissed him. Once he left, Buckam and I headed back out to the village chief, sitting down across from him as I let out a sigh.

"Before I answer your question, I would like to inform you that your wife should no longer be ill, we have given her medicine which will help her recover in a few hours." I explained, the village chief's eyes shining with gratitude as I continued, "I do not wish for our relationship to be tainted by lies, so I will tell you the truth. We are from the gate on top of Alnus Hill. We were the ones who killed all those knights." I explained bluntly, there was no sugarcoating what I just told him anyway.

The village chief's round face contorted into one of pure fear as he looked at the two of us, however, he blinked a couple of times before his fear turned into confusion. "You are soldiers who have _massacred_ many soldiers of whom serve our empire, yet you do not wish to pillage or conquer my village, you offer to kindness to us even though we are your enemy, and you have even helped treat my wife for an illness. What kind of soldiers are you?" Asked the village chief, still fearful of us yet seeming to regain his trust in us.

"Soldiers who do not believe in killing innocent civilians. We only fight those who wish to fight us." I explained, the expression on the old man going back to its neutral state, staring right into my eyes as I said what I said. There were a few moments of awkward and tense silence before the man spoke again.

"Throughout my life, I had dealt with many killers, liars, politicians, bandits, and tyrants. I know when a man is lying, and when a man is being truthful. You have killed a great number of our brave warriors, and being a former warrior myself, I cannot ever forgive you of that. However, I do believe you when you say you mean no harm to us, you have even saved my wife from the clutches of illness, and for that, I am in eternal debt to you." Explained the man as both Buckam and I took a massive breath of relief, the trust the man had in us seemed to be strengthened from the conversation we just had.

"Is there anything more I can do for you, _my friend?"_ Asked the village elder as we shook hands, I pulled out the map and lied it down on the table. Spreading it out so that we could see all the cities, villages, mountains, and other features that were marked on the map.

"Could you show me where I could find Princess Piña Co Lada, sir?" I asked the former knight as he looked up to me, seeming to be inspecting me with only his eyes. He then closed his eyes and nodded, grabbing the pencil I lied on top of the map as he used it to circle a large city which was to the right of our position at Alnus Hill, on the other side of a mountain range.

"This is the capital city of our empire, Sadera, this is where the emperor and his family reside. You will most likely find her there." He explained as he then drew a route which followed the mountain range for a bit, before stopping at a city labeled Italica, he then made the line go through the mountain range, making a straight line between Italica and Sadera.

"This is the quickest route to reach Sadera from here, it only takes three days by horseback." The man explained as I folded the map back up and shoved it in my breast pocket, getting up and shaking the man's hand. He looked into my eyes before speaking up again.

"You must promise me that you do not intend on harming the royal family in any way, I am a proud man. I do not want to be remembered as a traitor to my empire." Explained the man, I nodded as he shook his hand, uttering two words.

 _I promise._


	20. Scorched Earth

Scorched Earth

"With all due respect, let me see if I am understanding you correctly: you want us, _just_ us, to march into THE capital city and ask to see a princess? Not to mention the fact that she also has an army of elite troops who are ready to die for her. Am I right, sir?" Sly asked in disbelief as Buckam just looked at me, waiting for me to respond to the corporal's questions. I nodded as I answered the concerned corporal's inquiry.

"That's what both myself and command wants us to do. However, we'll be flying in by helicopter, three in total, one for each squad while Buckam and I will ride with squad two." I explained as simply as I could, Elvis shaking his head slightly in disbelief, Rivera simply just closing his eyes and sighing something under his breath. Buckam then asked that he speak to me in private, I dismissed the other NCOs from the village chief's dining room, the village chief was tending to his wife in the bedroom, plus he wouldn't be able to understand us if he were sitting at the table with us anyway. Thankfully, the village chief had given my platoon permission to spend the night in the village while we waited for a replacement platoon to set up some more defenses for the village. In more good news, a few helicopter pads were constructed, meaning we now had air transportation and limited air support available to us.

"Sir, with all due respect, this is ridiculous! Doing this will only get us more involved in whatever is going on in this place, more so than we want to be! We're already fighting one war, we can't fight another one!" Exclaimed the platoon sergeant, he made good points, but we had our orders. I remember the frustration in Dick's voice when I explained that we needed to provide security for the village, however, that frustration soon turned into enthusiasm and confidence once I explained we had a map and a location plus identity for the woman in white. _The princess_.

"Buckam, I can assure you that this will be a simple operation. We just go in, find this princess, tell her to tell her dad to leave us alone, then we'll get out. The Captain told me they came straight from _the_ lieutenant colonel himself." I explained, the lieutenant colonel I was referring to was Lieutenant Colonel Harrison, our former company commander, he got promoted to become our Battalion Commander after we crossed the gate. Buckam shook his head in disbelief.

"Sir, I implore you, make a case. For us, have some other unit do it or something for god-sake! What do you think that princess is going to do once she finds out we're the ones who slaughtered all of her troops on the hill?!" Cried my platoon sergeant, I listened to him and did take it all in, but the truth was that I already had made up my mind. I was going to go through with this operation, I had to, I had to understand what was going on. Curiosity killed the cat, sure, but nobody ever said that the cat was in the wrong for being curious, did they? So, while I did take what my platoon sergeant was saying to my heart, I already knew what to say before he knew what he was going to say. Once he finished, I slowly walked up to him and put my hand on his shoulder, trying to get him to calm down.

"Buckam, orders are orders. We must follow them, whether we like them or not, that's what we do, right? We're soldiers, and as soldiers, we do whatever is asked of us. Think about it! If we don't tell her to stop, then will this fighting ever stop?" I reasoned, sounding, or at least trying to sound as neutral as possible. Seeing him think about it was a sign of success, it meant that what I was saying was sticking with him, I then continued.

"We're going out there because we know how these _fuckers_ think, Buckam. We got them right where we want them, that's why I can't get some different unit to go do it. Just trust me, Buckam, _trust me._ " I finished, letting go of Buckam's shoulder to see his reaction. I saw his expression falter a bit as he slowly realized that I was right, that I needed him to trust in me as he needed me to trust in him. He looked up at me.

"I apologize for snapping at you, sir. I'm just worried about our platoon, most of 'em are kids y'know, and God only knows what _this_ place has in store for 'em." Explained Buckam with humility, I nodded as I put my hand on his shoulder and started walking him towards the door.

"Don't worry about it, Buckam. I understand, I do. I worry about Rick, Mitch, Bob, and all the others as well…but I also know that they're all tough. Tough as nails and sharps as knives. They handled the jungle, they'll be able to handle this cake-walk." I reassured my platoon sergeant as we now stood outside the village chief's house. It was dark out, but I could see various members of our platoon interacting with the villagers, mainly just showing them how their equipment and gear worked. This caused me to let out a faint chuckle.

"Seems the boys are getting' friendly with the civies here," I commented as I watched Randall slowly disassemble and reassemble his M60 in front of a bunch of the children who were playing earlier, Zippermouth was next to him, illuminating the machinegun with his torch. The children were all watching the disassembly intently, almost like they were in a trance-like state. This scene caused Buckam to let out a chuckle as well.

"Careful, sir, none of 'em will wanna leave at this rate. This here sure beats the villages back in the 'Nam, more peaceful out here. Just like Tennessee, back where I was raised." Reminisced the platoon sergeant as he opened a pack of cigarettes, offering me one which I took. He then lit both cigarettes for us as we continued to watch the various soldiers display how their gear and equipment worked to the villagers, mainly the children as they seemed more interested in these sorts of things as opposed to the adults. All was quiet, except for the various voices and sounds of guns and other pieces of equipment being messed around with, until the platoon sergeant spoke up again.

"I'll explain it to the squad leads, sir. I'll explain it all to 'em for ya, they'll be behind it by the time first platoon gets here." My platoon sergeant explained as he then left, I sat down on the steps, continuing to smoke the cigarette Buckam had given me by myself.

I then took my helmet off and looked down at the picture of Princess Piña, the illumination from the candles and lanterns within the village chief's house provided enough illumination for me to be able to see her. I wondered if she had any part in all this, perhaps she was one of the people who ordered the troops to go through the gate, on behalf of her father. She did keep appearing at the battlefield for a bit of a while, but then she stopped, so maybe those weren't her troops at all. But then why would she show up to the battlefield then? And, the more important question, why did she stop appearing? It had been days since she was last spotted, two more days and it would be a full week since her last appearance. I could never understand why I kept thinking about her that night.

The rest of the night was uneventful soon, helicopters touched down nearby the village as all the villagers watched on in awe. Some even trembling, the flying machines were probably something they had never seen before, let alone a group of them. Quickly, all four squads of first platoon hopped out of their helicopters as their platoon commander ran over to me. His soldiers establishing a perimeter around the city as the village chief made his way over to the two of us while my soldiers began to mount the helicopters which had just landed.

"Second Lieutenant Marlowe, I am your relief, is this the village chief?" Asked the officer as he looked down at the small, round man in business attire. I nodded as the officer then shook his hand, introducing himself as the two then went into the house, followed by his platoon sergeant who saluted me. The officer wasn't one for introductions I presumed as I quickly made my way to the helicopter Buckam was in after saluting the NCO back. A lot of the villagers waving at us as we were about to take off while a bunch of the soldiers from the first platoon began to mingle with the villagers as they set up defensive positions all around and within the village. I then turned to Buckam.

"Squad leaders, have everybody accounted for?" I asked as I looked around, peeking at each helicopter to get a grasp on how many people were within each vehicle. There seemed to be around twelve people and more in each helicopter which was roughly around how many people should've been in each helicopter as Buckam confirmed that everybody and all our gear was accounted for. I was then given a bulky headset with a large mouthpiece attached to the end of it, a mouthpiece similar to the one on the pilot's helmet.

"Testing, one, two, three." Said the pilot over the headset that I had put on, the sounds of the helicopter being muffled as the pilot's voice was the only thing I could hear clearly. I confirmed that I could hear him as he then asked me for orders. I handed him the map the village chief had given to me as we ended up finding out that there were multiple of these maps stored in the village chief's house, meaning that copies were already being sent back across the gate so that we could get proper maps of the place. The pilot put it on his dashboard, using his compass to weigh it down as I leaned into the cockpit with a pencil, orientating the map (we found out that magnetic north in this world led to the gate).

"Our position is currently to our right, as you can see, a path has already been marked out for us. Cut straight to this city, there'll be a cut in between the mountains we could use to cross, once we do. We head north, hugging the mountains, we'll eventually see the city. It's supposed to be big and hard to miss but stay low to the ground so that we don't miss anything, stay in a file." I ordered as I drew a line straight from the village to Italica, then connecting the line to the path to Sadera which had already been marked by the village chief. The pilot nodded and gave me the thumbs up as I leaned back into my seat, the pilot speaking into his mouthpiece again as I raised mine.

"HQ, this is ROUGH RIDER ACTUAL, the package is secured, preparing for takeoff to the target location, how copy? Over." Said the pilot as the door gunners started caressing the buttons to fire their M2 Browning machineguns which were mounted on the sides of the helicopters.

"Affirmative, moving to target location, ROUGH RIDER ACTUAL out." The pilot finished as he then seemed to give the order to the other helicopters to take off as the pilot then flicked a few of the switches on his control panel. Even from a distance, I could hear the mixture of excited and terrified gasps from the villagers below the helicopters all started to rise from the ground, turning to face the direction of the road and mountain range, all three helicopters having perfect synchronization as we then zoomed over the village.

As we rode, I could hear the radio chatter between the pilots, a lot of laughing and snarky jokes. However, as we rode, I just could not stop thinking about that night I was at Camp Enari…when our position was assaulted. Miles, I never forgot his face or his name, the poor kid. I couldn't save him from the Viet Cong, and now I was supposed to protect almost thirty soldiers, how was I supposed to do that in a world I barely understood.

Gradually, I started to wonder how Princess Piña dealt with these sorts of things. She was a ruler, so I doubted that she cried in public, it would be bad press after all. Maybe she just toughed it out, after all, she seemed to be able to do so back at the hill, if those were her men we had blown up and killed. Maybe she was like me, just thinking, thinking about how if she had simply done something different, then maybe that life would have been saved. Then again, perhaps she simply didn't have much care for her soldiers, maybe she viewed them as some sort of "lesser" beings since she was royalty, it wouldn't surprise me.

I then wondered what she thought of us, the men on the hill. The ones that killed her men, slaughtered them rather, slaughtered them like farm animals. Were we monsters to her? Did she even see us as human? Maybe she viewed us as another adversary for her to battle, someone to defeat to expand her empire-or-her father's empire rather. Or maybe she'd go on to tell tales of green monsters who destroyed all in their path, monsters who could set fire to the world.

My thoughts were then suddenly stopped as I was yanked back into reality as the helicopter suddenly stopped, I looked around and saw the other helicopters aligning themselves so that we were now in a wedge formation as I heard the pilot come over the headset. In addition to this, there was an awful stench coming from somewhere, looking around, I could see that everybody in my helicopter could smell it as a lot of soldiers started gagging, some coughing while a select few ended up vomiting off the side of the helicopter. As I came to my senses, I could see we were hovering over a large pile of burnt rubble with various huge plumes of smoke rising off the ground.

"Orders, sir?" The pilot asked casually as I started to gag and cough. The stench was overwhelming; however, it was a smell I recognized all too easily. Flesh creates a certain aroma when its burned…

I wish I could have ordered for us to keep moving, but I could not, we were the first unit to find this to the extent of my knowledge. This meant that we had to investigate this, to make sure that we didn't accidentally shell this village or something during Operation Enterprise. I gave the order for us the pilot to allow us to disembark as the helicopter pilot repeated that order to the other pilots. We soon quickly descended, the helicopters landing in the closest patch of green which was a few feet as the helicopters then took off and began to circle the area to provide us close air support. I ordered us to create a platoon line, the first squad being the left flank and so on. I radioed in that we were investigating this village shortly after we landed, garnering me a "good luck" from the radio operator. I could see the hesitation and disgust in everybody's eyes as we slowly advanced onto the village.

The ground was still warm, meaning that whatever had done this had done so recently, a couple of other soldiers vomited as the aroma of death overtook us, the helicopters overhead swirling the smell around so that it was virtually encoding us now. The ground was pure black, littered on the ground were skeletons, all charred and broken, the pieces of brick and wood that scattered the area made me realize that this must have been a village at one point. A private next to me suddenly who was looking around fell face-first into the ground, he then suddenly started to scream out of pure terror while violently thrashing around in the mud as something had wrapped around him.

I quickly screamed for the entire formation to halt as Randall, Rick, and I quickly subdued the kid and got him off the ground. Once the private was on his feet, we all saw why he had been screaming; a charred skeleton was laying where the private was, meaning that the private must've fallen face-first on top of it. His panic and thrashing causing the skeleton to entangle itself around him. Randall walked with the kid to go see Doc as Rick fell back into his squad, we were in the middle of the village, I could tell because a well was all that seemed to remain. All that was left. I quickly called for the formation to halt as I went over to Buckam, giving him the order to have the first squad pull security while the other two swept the area, he nodded, and soon the squads moved out to their positions as Buckam and I went over to the private.

The private was sitting against a wall, trembling slightly as Doc tried to calm him down, both going into the position of attention and saluting me as I drew near, I saluted them back as I dismissed Doc to his unit after thanking him. The private looked up at me with a look of shame as I knelt in front of him. Buckam sitting down next to him.

"You doin' all right, son?" I asked with concern in my voice, although it happened in Vietnam, a lot of the soldiers in our platoon had yet to see many of the atrocities many of the experienced soldiers had been forced to bear witness to. The private looked up at myself, then at Buckam, and then back at me as he pitifully nodded.

"Y-Yes, sir, I just tripped is all. It was nothing really, s-sorry for wasting your time, sir." The young private apologized, obviously very embarrassed and ashamed of himself as he looked down at the ground. I could already tell that this private was probably among the group of people who got drafted into the war even though they thought they would not be for whatever reason. Perhaps a college dropout, given how well-mannered he was. I cautiously put my hand on his shoulder as he then looked up at me, Buckam brushing him off and fixing all his gear while this was happening.

"Private, you did nothing wrong, you're not wasting my time at all! Therefore, you have nothing to apologize for." I explained as Buckam finished straightening the private out, patting his back a couple of times. However, the private was still gloomy, still refusing to look up at me, he was probably already shell-shocked from all the battles we had taken part in so far.

"I tripped and screamed over nothing, sir…" Explained the private pitifully as he squirmed around a little, a picture falling out of his helmet. Buckam picked it up and looked at it, smiling a little as he then showed it to me. It was a picture of two older people standing with the private, the private was wearing his dress uniform in the picture. Buckam then handed the picture back to the private who shoved it into his helmet.

"Those your folks?" Asked Buckam as he straightened the private's helmet out, the private nodded. "I took that picture after I graduated from boot camp, sergeant," the private explained, a small grin formed across Buckam's face, one of remembrance.

"You have drill sergeant a guy named Wheeler by any chance?" Asked Buckam, the private dawned a confused look before looking up at Buckam and nodding. The platoon sergeant let out a hardy laugh as he explained that he had the same drill sergeant as the private, telling the private about the time that he had to do one hundred pushups in thirty minutes because he almost tripped Drill Sergeant Wheeler during basic training. The private lightened up a little and laughed with Buckam once he finished his story.

"So y'see, kid, you're all right. Already doin' better than me when I was a private like you. So why don't ya go on and link up with your squad, they need a good private watchin' out for 'em after all." Suggested Buckam as he slowly stood up, the private rising with him as he thanked the platoon sergeant. He then turned around, looking up at me and saluting me, I saluted him back as I then pointed to where his squad was, he seemed to have a new boost of confidence as he ran toward his squad. I looked over at Buckam who just looked down and shook his head.

"That poor kid doesn't belong here, too clean. He should be back home, eatin' dinner with his folks, not out here." Sighed Buckam as he sat up against the well, letting his trousers and blouse get more mud on them. I just sighed in agreement as I leaned up against the well, looking around at the destruction.

Earlier, while splitting the squads up, I told the Rivera and Presley to report their findings to Buckam and I once they were finished, Rivera was the first as he told us to come with him, that there was something we needed to see. I followed the sergeant, ordering Buckam to stay behind just in case Presley came back to report his findings. Rivera led me to a destroyed house at the edge of the village, however, not everything was destroyed…the only thing left standing was what seemed to be a scorched, wooden baby crib. The soldiers that were there were on their knees, either praying or just staying silent, Rivera simply shook his head as we slowly started to walk back to the well where Buckam and Presley were.

"I don't know who, or _what,_ did this…but we so far have found thirty skeletons. However, we believe that there were roughly four people in each household, but its impossible to tell with all this rubble in the way, sir." Reported Rivera, I then dismissed Rivera back to his squad as I linked up with Buckam who told me what Presley's squad had reported.

"That would make current casualties anywhere in the hundred then… _Christ, this village was unarmed too._ " I reminisced as out of pure rage, I took one of the pieces of wood that were lying on the ground and chucked it into the well.

"Who torches a full fuckin' village! Who would do something like this?!" I cried out as I waited for the splash that would eventually come with the piece of wood falling into the water. Buckam sighed and shook his head, looking around as the squads started to form a perimeter around the village, the helicopters still circling overhead, providing an extra sense of security. A few moments passed before I regained my composure and ordered Buckam to get the squad leaders to form back up on the green part, the area which hadn't been touched by whatever had caused this destruction, where we had landed earlier. As I stood there with the radioman by my side, I noticed that I had never heard the piece of wood splash against the water, confused, I leaned into the well and shone my flashlight down into the well. What I saw caused me to yell which scared the radioman standing next to me.

"What is it, sir? Are you okay?!" Asked the now concerned radioman as he quickly reached for the weapon which he had slung to his back.

"Get Doc! Run! We have a civie that needs immediate medical attention!" I shouted as the radioman dawned a look of confusion, however, my sincerity behind the order must've motivated him as I quickly undid the knot which was holding the bucket for the well, using all the strength I could muster to pull the bucket up. The radioman returned with Doc as well as a couple of privates who helped me pull the bucket out of the well, revealing a child who was stuffed into the bucket, the piece of wood I had thrown into the well was resting on her lap. The two privates carefully scooped the girl out of the bucket and lied her on the ground as Doc quickly started looking over her.

"Radio TOC, radio the helicopters, tell them we have a child that needs a CASEVAC immediately!" I shouted as the radioman quickly complied, one of the helicopters which were circling overhead landing close to the village. The rest of the platoon had already formed a defensive perimeter around us as the other two helicopters hovered overhead to provide security, Buckam rushed over to us to figure out what was happening.

"She's got a pulse, but she isn't regaining consciousness! We need to get her to the sickbay ASAP!" Doc screamed as he scooped the child up in his arms, rushing to the helicopter with her as he continued to hold her, followed by Buckam and I, along with the radioman and the second squad. The first squad and third squad boarded their helicopters as I gave the order for us to return to the hill. We needed to resupply, rest, and get the young girl treated, as far as we could see, she was the only survivor of whatever happened at her village.

A full medical team was already at the helipad, ready to take her in as soon as the helicopter touched down. She was rushed off as I ordered everybody to eat, hydrate, and then go back to the barracks. There was no point in continuing the mission at this point, everybody exhausted, myself included, and the helicopters needed to refuel. After giving the order, I made my way to Captain Richards' office, I was let in and found him sitting at his desk, doing more paperwork. The action which he seemed to always be doing whenever I was around now that I think of it.

"You're back early," the Captain commented after we saluted each other, "I already know what happened, Marlowe. You made the right call on falling back." The captain explained before I could even get a word out. However, he soon paused to let me speak.

"Sir, are you saying that I'm not in trouble?" I asked, honestly still confused as it was all just so…sudden really. Just a few moments ago, I was in what I believed to be Hell on Earth, now I was in an office. The captain just chuckled as he repeated that I was not.

"However, I do expect that AAR on my desk no later than 0800 tomorrow morning. As for the kid, once she gets better, we'll just put her with the village y'all found yesterday." Explained Dick as he walked out of his office, I followed him, he looked down at the direction of the village before he spoke up again.

"Doubt we'll be going anywhere for a while, Marlowe, and that kid just solidified it. Once word gets out that we helped that kid, which it will, everybody will wanna come knocking on our doorstep." Sighed the captain as he shook his head, looking down as he did so.

"If that's the case, sir, then why'd you let us bring her back?" I asked causing him to laugh as he then shook his head again, looking out in the distance. Out towards the village.

"What kind of a man would I be if I told y'all to leave a fuckin' kid to die? I'll deal with getting' screamed at by Harrison and all the B.S. that follows with it." Dick grumbled as he then took a deep breath.

"I've kept you here, longer than I needed you for, you're dismissed. Just don't forget about my AAR, Marlowe, I want it on my desk by 0800 hours." Dick called out to me as he then walked back to his office, leaving me to watch the sunset over the mountain range. It was oddly relaxing.


	21. A Letter to Pastor Sherman

A Letter to Pastor Sherman

December 17, 1968

Dear Pastor Alex Sherman,

I know the last time we talked to each other, I said terrible things to you. I know I messed up and I just wanted to apologize to you. I've been in Vietnam for years now, and the things you told me about how the world can become a dark place when men have an excuse to sin; I've come to understand what you meant when you told me that.

I have seen men act like animals, atrocities beyond your worse nightmares, and suffering beyond my own comprehension. It's terrible, it truly is, and now I'm supposed to lead over a quarter of a hundred men through all of this. I need guidance, father, I need help.

Today, especially, I saw a terrible sight. It was a village, which had been burned to the ground by what I can only assume was the work Satan himself. There was all but one survivor, a young girl in a well amongst all the destruction and horror.

I know you probably don't care about me anymore, considering what I said to you, but please. I need you, I need _faith,_ now more than ever. So please, write back to me as soon as you can.

Sincerely,

Martin Marlowe


End file.
